


Bite the Hand That Feeds

by Erisabesu (ErisabesuFic)



Category: Naruto
Genre: Action, Angst, Drama, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Sexual Tension, Suspense, Unresolved Sexual Tension, sasusai - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-30
Updated: 2019-11-30
Packaged: 2021-02-18 03:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ErisabesuFic/pseuds/Erisabesu
Summary: “No one else sees what happens, which is expected of an organization like Root.”  [2009.01.15]Written around the time of manga chapter 434, when Naruto was facing Pain during the attack on Konoha.
Relationships: Sai & Uchiha Sasuke, Sai & Uzumaki Naruto, Sai/Uchiha Sasuke, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto
Comments: 20
Kudos: 82





	Bite the Hand That Feeds

**Bite the Hand That Feeds**

♦

Complete the mission… or retrieve a fallen comrade.

Eliminate all witnesses… or let the enemy orphans go on the chance they won’t live long enough to challenge Leaf in future.

Say goodbye one last time… or don the mask and slip off into the night on the hopes that there will be one more hello.

Every moment in life presents a choice. And with every choice come the consequences.

♦

Nobody else sees what happens, which is expected of an organization like Root. The chaos brought on by a village under siege is the perfect mantle for Danzou’s machinations, even when implementing Plan D, E, F or G—no matter the obstacle there’s a backup plan with shinobi in place to oversee its execution on a moment’s notice. Sai isn’t sure what plan this is anymore, a fact that may or may not prove to be his undoing.

Sakura doesn’t see it. She’s blocks away and busy with what’s left of the medic team, covered in red and healing the injured at a furious rate. They’re quick, but the wounds from the village-wide battle spread and multiply faster than their thirsty bandages can soak up the blood, faster than evacuation can take place. If she had looked over to where the main battles were underway, then she might have caught a glimpse of the irregularity. But she doesn’t—she trusts her teammates not to die, and trusts herself to have the skills they need, just in case.

Naruto doesn’t see it, even though he’s right there while it happens; he is too busy defending his village from Akatsuki’s persistent Leader to notice what takes place right behind his back. Of all of them, he trusts _too much_. But that’s what makes him Naruto—and that’s what makes him fight so hard for the villagers trusting in him now to protect them, red coat in tatters and muscles deconstructing with every passing second from the overuse of wind and steel and the explosion of power no one’s ever seen in him before.

Sai’s paintbrush doesn’t falter although he sees _everything_. Sasuke doesn’t make them fight very hard–he must not know the differences in the masks. Four of them are all it takes to inject the sedative and bind his eyes, a moment of shimmering air and then nothing but vacant space in the wreckage where he’d stood ready for the opportunity to back Naruto up.

Naruto’s fight is on a scale that leaves no room for teamwork, though—no one else can fight like him. And if Konoha is to survive beyond this day, she needs her fiercest warrior fighting without distractions.

Sai backs him up in the only way he can, keeping the area clear of both enemies and innocents so that Naruto isn’t compromised. _His_ priority is Naruto.

The rest can be dealt with later.

♦

“Where in the _hell_ did he go?” Naruto shouts at the top of his lungs, irrespective of their location within the battered hospital. He paces, encumbered with the crutch, turning those panicked blue eyes towards him. “I mean, he was _right there_! I saw him!”

“He was there,” Sai murmurs gently, agreeing.

“But he didn’t just disappear, so where the fuck is he?”

Naruto rampages back the other way, body half-healed and awkward. He’s been unconscious for more than a day; he shouldn’t even be out of bed yet. Sai meets Sakura’s frown across the room. She starts to head Naruto off, then stops, finally slouching into the closest chair. Her features sag, a quieter version of Naruto’s despair.

“What else could have happened, huh?” Naruto continues on, gesticulating every few steps with the arm still tucked into a sling. “He came back! He came back and he fought—so then where did he go? Where would he have gone, huh? Nowhere! He came back so there was nowhere else to go!”

Sai doesn’t say anything. Sakura doesn’t either.

Naruto rounds on her. “What about ANBU? Did the Old Lady send them? Did they report back with anything?”

“I don’t know, Naruto,” Sakura shakes her head. “She’s…”

Naruto doesn’t give her much chance to answer. “So what about those guys who were with him? You know? The ones that helped?” Naruto jerks his bad leg around to aim this question at him. “There were two I think… or were there more?”

“I don’t think they’ve been located,” Sai says. “And no bodies have been found, either.”

“ _Bod—_ ” Naruto closes his mouth on the word. All color drains from his face, already pale from shock. “No. NO—we’re not looking for bodies, that’s wrong. That’s completely wrong!”

Sai steps away from his spot at the window. “I didn’t mean—“

“—He wouldn’t die! No way, that’s impossible,” Naruto forces a choked laugh from his raw windpipe. “ _Not him._ He’s way too strong. He couldn’t.” Naruto turns to Sakura for confirmation of this statement.

A tear slips from the corner of her eye and rolls down her cheek. Both he and Naruto instantly move towards her, but Naruto’s closer and he makes it there first.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey,” he says, leaning the crutch against the bed and hopping to the right angle so he can lay his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll figure it out, okay? We’ll find him, and it’ll be all right. Okay?”

Sai stands two paces away and watches Sakura’s head lower. Spots of damp discolor the skirt across her knees; she lifts a shaking hand and places it atop Naruto’s and _squeezes_.

Naruto blinks rapidly, then turns his head up. “Heh, he probably scraped his knee or something, and doesn’t want us to see him being uncool. Something like that.”

Sai thinks of saying, ‘ _That’s not why she’s crying. You’ve been out cold which is why you don’t know.’_ But he holds his tongue.

Sakura rubs her eyes with the heel of her hand to compose herself enough to look at Naruto. She stands, forcing a smile. “I know. I’m okay,” she says, taking his hand from her shoulder and holding it between them for a moment before she lets go. “Now _you_ should be in bed, mister.”

“I’ll go, I’ll go. Promise.” Naruto attempts that easy grin of his and Sakura nods, stepping around him.

She turns to Sai. “I’ll be at the end of the hall. There’s coffee.”

Sai nods, accepting her invitation. She leaves the room, the door closing with a soft thud.

Naruto’s smile disappears. He clenches his fist and his teeth so hard Sai worries he could break something.

“ _Dammit!_ ”

Naruto smacks his crutch to the floor, an angry movement appropriately accompanied by the clatter of aluminum on concrete. Sai keeps still, thinking he needs this moment of discomposure without any interference. Naruto takes a deep breath, and shuffles over to where the crutch lies on the floor beyond his reach. He hops, then leans over to grab it with his left hand though he can’t move properly yet–his knee buckles, body crumpling to the floor.

Sai’s instinct is to rush forward; he resists, giving Naruto the chance to get back up by himself… but it doesn’t happen. Naruto stares down at his splayed hand, silent. Immobile. His shoulders quiver and then shake, and Sai doesn’t figure out what’s happening until he hears the first racking sobs.

Both the sight and the sound is too painful to endure. Sai steps carefully to Naruto’s side and kneels, moving the crutch out of the way. He braces his arm in back of Naruto’s shoulders and Naruto simply keels into him, burying his wet face into Sai’s shirt collar and muffling his anguish. The sobs come harder for a time, Naruto’s whole body jerking from the force of his disappointment. Sai combs bare fingers through his hair, feeling Naruto’s fist tighten in the fabric between his shoulder blades. He didn’t think it would be like _this_.

“Crying isn’t going to help, Naruto,” he murmurs.

Naruto hunches his shoulders. “What _happened_ to him, Sai?”

Sai pictures Sasuke collapsing limp into the waiting arms of Root ANBU.

Naruto rubs his eyes on Sai’s shirt, then swipes his good hand over his face and into his unruly hair. “Did you see him? How he saved those people under that falling roof?”

Sai nods.

“My clone saw it. He and that other guy did it so fast,” Naruto glances back down to the floor. “He came back, Sai. I _know_ it.”

“He—” Naruto swallows, lip twitching; a warning sign. “That other Akatsuki guy had the sharingan. He must have known…” Naruto looks up at him, then, voice thickened with emotion. “He must have known we’d need him, and so he came back and he fought for us—fought b-b-beside us…”

Naruto chokes back the sob, but he can’t stop the tears. “So _why_ Sai— _why_ would he leave? Why would he leave us again?”

Sai finds his throat closing up too.

Naruto leans his forehead into his palm, body sagging into a huddled mass while tears stream down the contours of his face to drip from his chin and wrist. Some of it falls onto Sai’s thigh. Naruto keens, mumbling through his tears to ask a last rhetorical question before grief renders him incapable of speech: “ _Why couldn’t he just stay with me?”_

Naruto cries until he’s exhausted and falls asleep in Sai’s lap, tangled there on the hospital room floor. Sai sits, quiet and still, heart aching; he listens to it all and cards his fingers through Naruto’s hair, thinking Sakura had the right of it. This was not the right time to tell him about Kakashi. Or any of the rest.

It’s rather a delicate balancing act, but Sai carries Naruto’s bulk and puts him safely into bed without aggravating any of his injuries. The crutch he leans next to the chair and within Naruto’s reach for when he wakes, hopefully after many hours of dreamless slumber. His heartbeat is racing, his temperature up—Sai hopes it’s a sign that the Kyuubi is working double overtime.

He remembers Sasuke’s face—so smug; it hadn’t been a smile, really—the moment he re-tied his Konoha headband right there in front of Naruto, skin sooty from fire jutsus and smeared with the grime of intense battle.

Naruto had been _radiant_.

Sai finds he lacks the ability to forget the force of it.

He leaves Naruto fast asleep, and meets Sakura as she’d asked, but it doesn’t matter. His decision has already been made.

♦

When the physical battle for Konoha is over, nothing seems quite real. The landscape has been irrevocably altered, and the faces roaming the streets in last-ditch rescue efforts are mostly foreign; Sai watches the uneasy mixture from the hospital lobby window, Leaf shinobi too shell-shocked to trust the goodwill offered by Kumogakure headbands. In another day, aid from Suna will arrive. Sai’s not sure if that’ll make matters better or worse.

Sai doesn’t say goodbye. The feel of Naruto’s exhausted body cradled across his legs is too fresh.

Instead he goes directly to the Hokage office where Danzou stands at the window, looking out. The sun streaming in a cloudless sky is all Sai can see before he kneels, pressing one set of knuckles into the floor.

“Reporting for duty. Sir.”

♦

The first assignment comes later that same day; Sai takes the envelope from Hyou-senpai and bows. But Senpai doesn’t take his leave as expected.

Nonplussed, Sai waits for further instructions, or for a test—this Senpai is fond of tests. They haven’t seen each other since that afternoon Senpai brought the envelope Danzou intended for Orochimaru; it seems like ages ago. Instead of drawing his weapon like before, Hyou-senpai brushes Sai’s hair back from his headband, tucking it away from his face.

“I thought I told you to keep your guard up.”

Sai tilts his head. “Senpai, did you need something?”

Sai can’t read the expression behind the mask. There might not even be one. The hand, however, makes his Senpai’s intentions quite clear. Hyou clasps the zipper’s pull at his neck and lowers it in one slow, smooth motion.

‘ _Emotions are dangerous_ ,’ Sai thinks. Surely his every move, every nuance of every gesture will be reported. By Senpai, or others.

“Shall I undress?” he asks, slipping his shoulders free, the shirt catching around his elbows.

Senpai considers before undoing his belt. “No need.”

Sai kneels on the floor and begins; he’s done it a thousand times.

“Make it quick,” Senpai cautions, referring to the mission schedule with a tap of gloved fingers on the desk.

A reply is unnecessary; action is imperative. Sai imagines blond curls and salivates, which makes it easier.

‘ _I have no name.’_ He repeats this, relaxing his throat. ‘ _I have no name. I have no emotions.’_

‘ _No past. No future.’_

With minor efforts he makes Senpai come, short quick bitter bursts and a deep sigh.

‘ _All that exists is the mission.’_

Sai gulps, then licks his lips. Senpai leaves right after.

‘ _All that exists is the mission.’_

♦

Sai’s first assignment takes him away from Konoha for a day and a half. It’s not what he would have preferred, but he’s in no position to object; he completes the task without any trouble and when he returns to Danzou the man is pleased.

Considering the political climate in the village, Sai feels it better to avoid his apartment for a while–his is one of the few left standing; Naruto’s was obliterated completely–which means he descends the deep mine shaft leading to Root’s headquarters, rejoining the shinobi he’s known from youth in the cafeteria or the training rooms, and of course, in meditation.

He completes a second mission, and a third. Hyou-senpai finds him one night, just as he used to. After that, two other Senpai pay him visits, all in accordance with the understood hierarchy. There is no concept of consent–here, where logic and duty reign over passion and aversion alike, there is only the relief of a normal, biological need. Sai finds a honey-skinned kouhai in the locker rooms the morning after his fourth assignment; he’s three years younger, but about the same height as a certain loudmouth. Sai takes pains to be gentle about it.

Everything is much the same.

Almost.

The reward for good behavior is a job filling in on a certain rotation, and a trip even further below the common areas of the facility. They don’t refer to it as a prison, but only prisoners stay in these rooms with steel bars; locked away, held in the balance. Two Senpai are with him, one to push the rations cart while Sai and the other deliver the first of two daily meals, up one hall and down another.

Sasuke is in a room away from the others, spacious by comparison though he can’t tell with his eyes sealed shut. Sai places the food tray through the slot and _stares._

“What’s _he_ doing here?”

Sasuke’s head snaps up.

“He’s here until Danzou-sama orders otherwise,” a Senpai replies.

Sai shrugs and moves on without another word, Senpai at his sides, completing this round of duty the same as the others: without flaw.

♦

Not two days later Hyou-senpai rouses him from sleep with a summons: Danzou wishes for his immediate presence.

Sai dresses and reports to the Hokage office post haste. Outside, there are no ANBU guards, or at least none visible–Sai has no doubts that two or more are stationed and ready. Inside, the room is changing, slowly, like a mold creeping up and overtop every fixture. It’s becoming _his_ room.

“You summoned me, sir.” Sai kneels as he had before.

Danzou sips from a steaming mug, then sets it on the desk, off to the side. “Uchiha Sasuke is not eating.”

Sai doesn’t respond to this news; he hasn’t been asked a question.

“More accurately, Uchiha Sasuke is refusing to eat unless _you_ are the one to bring his meals.”

This makes Sai pause. Reconsider. Uchiha Sasuke has made an unexpected gambit.

“Permission to speak freely, sir?”

Danzou gestures an _at ease_.

“If he does not eat he can be starved, or forced.” Sai lifts his head, changing his formal posture into the less formal seiza. “He should be made to understand his situation.”

“Why do you suppose he asked for you?” Danzou asks.

Sai ponders this. “Is it strange for him to be curious? We did meet before.”

“Is there any other reason?”

Sai shakes his head. “None that I know of, sir.”

Danzou is quiet, his face and form ever-relaxed, nothing unruffled, ever.

“Perhaps there is an opportunity here, sir,” Sai breaks the silence.

“Your reasoning?”

“If he’s been kept alive, then he might someday be useful to us. If his usefulness has yet to be ascertained, then the right impetus hasn’t been found to break him. If he’s asking for me to deliver his meals, then there is a chance he’d tell or show me things we want to know. That is all.”

“What do you think of this Uchiha Sasuke?”

Sai smiles. “I think we want him on _our_ side.”

“And if he refuses?”

“He dies.” Sai’s expression doesn’t change.

Danzou lifts his mug of tea and sips. Sai waits for his decision, counting the knots in the wooden floorboards to stay focused.

“Failure will not be tolerated.”

Sai bows his head. “Understood.”

♦

“You understand what this means?” Senpai asks, sliding gloves over his hands and flexing his fingers.

“I do,” Sai replies. Another Senpai winds ropes around his wrists, then loops the ends through the chain hanging from the ceiling and pulls. Sai closes his eyes when his toes can barely reach the floor, his body swaying gently back and forth.

‘ _I have no name. I have no emotions.’_

The first backhand blow splits the skin of his lower lip; there are no questions asked in this mock interrogation.

‘ _No past. No future.’_

The second is enough to knock him out.

‘ _All that exists is the mission.’_

Sai slips willingly into unconsciousness, glad they could give him that much before carrying out Danzou’s orders to the letter.

♦

Sai wakes to the scrape of something heavy sliding along a groove, and then the clank of mechanical parts, a hinge closing. His brain feels dull; his shoulder throbs in a way that tells him he was dropped on the floor, cold stone beneath his cheek. He moves his fingers first, then his wrist. The chain between the handcuffs clinks against the stones, pulling on the longer chain attached to his feet. He blinks his eyes open.

The cell has a single fluorescent bulb. Outside, the rest of the hallway is lit with track lighting along the ceiling, a wan glow that filters through the bars in perpetual twilight. On the far wall Sai can see a toilet, but the room is empty save for the second occupant.

Sasuke is in the same spot as before, bound in similar fashion except for the eyes, although Sai is sure there are other differences that can’t be seen. Sasuke sits on his thin futon, back to the wall, knees drawn up to support his elbows. They wear the same uniform now, standard navy blue pants and shirts with long sleeves. Sai shifts upright and hisses–at least one of his ribs is cracked. Probably two. The ring of protective tape tugs on the skin of his abdomen with the movement it takes to get up from the floor and onto his bare feet. He can balance, and his vision stays clear–two good signs.

“Who are you?” Sasuke growls.

Sai is somewhat surprised they didn’t already tell him. He licks his tongue over his swollen bottom lip and tastes dried blood. Somehow the confirmation of the injury makes it start to hurt.

“Didn’t you ask for me, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke starts–then his lips press tight.

Sai takes a breath to see how bad his ribs really are, then flexes his muscles to confirm the bruising that probably won’t show for another half day. Not that Sasuke will be able to see it anyways.

“Why’d they bring you here?”

Sai examines the chains binding him, wrists and ankles unable to spread more than shoulder width apart. The shorter chains are linked together by a longer segment that drags on the floor, but a simple experiment shows that he can raise his hands above his head without bending his knees; it’s inconvenient, but ultimately effective.

“They’re watching you,” he replies. “I guess they want to watch me too.” Sai heads over to the corner by the door where a second futon has been left behind, presumably for him.

“You’re limping.”

“…A bit.”

“What did _you_ do?”

“Nothing.” Sai lifts the futon and carries it back to the patch of stone where he’d woken up. He spreads it out and smoothes the surface, chains rustling as he works. It’s stale but not too dirty. “It seems I’m not yet trusted after failing that mission. _You_ reminded them. And now I’m here.”

Sasuke turns his head, eyelids covered in mad scribblings of black chakra-suppressing ink. The intricate swooping of strokes is mesmerizing, interlaced across Sasuke’s temples to the upper curves of his cheeks where his lashes are woven closed. Sai confirms the brushwork he’d recognized at first sight.

“You ought to pick your missions more carefully.” Sasuke’s voice is thick with arrogance. Confidence.

Sai settles down on the futon, body aching from only that much activity. He closes his eyes.

“I think you better eat your dinner this time, Sasuke-kun.”

♦

Sai sleeps through the first delivered meal, but he’s wide awake for the next and can openly observe his cellmate: Sasuke waits for the rations cart to finish with the entire floor and disappear before moving from his spot by the wall and retrieving his tray.

Sai finds this weird, and somewhat amusing, as if Sasuke doesn’t want anyone to see how he moves or hear his chains rattling with each step. The shinobi who deliver the food may not get to see him in any other position than seated with elbows on knees, managing to glare even with eyes shut tight, but his empty food dishes give him away. And besides, there are video cameras. Somewhere.

For his part, Sai tilts his head and smiles at his fellow Root members, although they give him the same treatment as Sasuke, which is indifference: they don’t exist. Their third meal arrives, and Sai doesn’t see why he should continue to wait for his companion to eat, so this time he takes first dibs and brings his tray back to his area of the room after helping himself to most of the pickles on Sasuke’s tray.

Sai eats his rice, and watches while Sasuke finally unfolds his ankles and then walks three precise steps to where the second tray awaits. He feels for the edge and picks it up, turning smartly on his heel. Maybe it’s time to break the ice.

“So, been here long?”

Sasuke’s shoulders hunch, a show of momentary surprise that he shakes off with a toss of his head. He sits down and begins to eat, not deigning to respond.

“Does the menu get any better than this?” Sai asks, taking a sip of lukewarm, unsweetened tea served in a plastic cup. Besides rice, there is a curry sauce with chunks of tofu small enough not to choke on, and a wide plastic spoon to eat it with, too dull and lightweight to become anything dangerous… even in the hands of a shinobi.

“I wonder if they’ll ever bring Ramen–what do you think? Should I ask for–“

“For god’s sake, _shut up_.”

Sai lifts his brows, and takes another sip of tea. “Don’t you like Ramen?”

Sasuke scowls. “What I despise is pointless chatter interrupting my meal.”

“Oh.” Sai mixes some rice and sauce and eats it with the spoon. “Then I’ll wait until you’re done so you can tell me all the different things you’ve eaten here.”

“Why the hell would I do that?”

“Well I, for one, like to be prepared.”

“Prepared for what? I don’t think we’re going anywhere.”

“But I _like_ Ramen. If they don’t serve any Ramen I’d rather know in the beginning, wouldn’t you?”

For a moment Sasuke only turns red, possibly with rage… although Sai can’t quite tell. He watches Sasuke shift his spot so he’s facing further away, two crinkles forming between his brows.

“While you’re busy eating, shall I tell you everything you’ve missed? A fair trade?” Sai takes a bite to give Sasuke a chance to answer.

He doesn’t.

“Suit yourself.” Sai finishes the rice and tea in silence, then eats the pickles with his fingers. Just when he puts his tray to the side, Sasuke attacks.

He crosses the room faster than Sai would have imagined, and takes a swing at him, hands locked together for impact. Sai barely manages to duck to the side and spring up and onto the wall, bracing himself in the corner with chakra-fused hands and feet while Sasuke gauges his location by the sound of his chains and grabs hold. The cracked ribs make the difference; Sai can’t move his body fast enough to block before Sasuke throws him down on his futon, knocking the breath from him in side-splitting pain.

Darkness swirls across his sight. Cringing, Sai brings up his hands to guard his throat–but Sasuke simply grabs him by the shirt and shakes him.

“ _How_ did you do that?” he hisses.

“Do w-what?” Sai mumbles through his teeth, astounded by the pain of roughhousing so soon after the beating.

“You can use chakra?” Sasuke shakes him again.

“Can’t _you_?” Sai replies, gritting his teeth.

Sasuke’s closed eyes stare down at him, and he shakes him once more. Sai goes limp when it seems that Sasuke isn’t really trying to kill him.

“ _Forget it._ ” Sasuke shoves him away, then gets up and returns to his side of the room. He picks up his empty tray and sets it by the slot, then turns towards Sai with one more glare.

“And don’t eat my pickles. Ever again.”

Sai stays where he is, sprawled on his futon. “You noticed. I’m glad.”

Sasuke flicks him off before taking his usual seat. Sai curls his body in protection of his throbbing ribs and fights off the desire to smirk.

♦

“Why don’t you just break them?”

Sai pauses his awkward attempt at kata practice and looks down at his hands, the shackles at his wrists allowing for only so much movement. “These?”

“You’re not strong enough?”

“I am.” Sai lowers his hands. “But for what purpose? There are still bars on the door. I have no reason to escape. And it would be silly of me to destroy the only weapon against you that I have, should you decide to attack me. Again.”

Sasuke cocks his head to the side. “There’s still ninjutsu.”

Sai hears what isn’t said–ninjutsu requires _chakra_.

He shrugs. “Sorry, my skills are a bit different than yours–dependent on brush, ink, and paper. There’s none of that anywhere close to here, which is probably why they aren’t worried about my chakra. That, or they figured I needed some sort of advantage to survive in this cell with you.”

Sasuke lifts one brow, begins to say something, then stops.

Sai turns to look outside the bars of their door, to the empty hallway and empty neighboring rooms. “I could break these chains with chakra, and then maybe get through to the hallway. But then what? I am part of Root. This is our headquarters. If Danzou-sama wishes to keep me here I have no reason to object.”

“Why _are_ you here?” Sasuke tilts his head in question.

Sai shrugs. “Because Danzou-sama wills it. I live to serve him; imprisonment here is my punishment.”

“And the crime?”

Sai smiles. He closes his eyes, remembering nights of open-mouthed snores and the rustle of instant noodles carried in a pack everywhere they go, the sounds of endless training multiplied by a thousand simultaneous voices and taking his breath away. Priceless, precious months.

He turns to Sasuke. “I wanted to stay with him. Just a little longer.”

Sasuke scowls, dismissive.

Sai sits back down on his futon, one knee raised to support his cheek. “You must know what I mean. You came back, after all.”

Sasuke remains silent.

“You must have known what it would mean to him for you to return and fight for the sake of Konoha–or was it only for that?”

“None of your business,” Sasuke snaps.

“Were you planning to leave again? Before the plans changed and you were brought here?”‘

Sasuke turns the other way.

“He was hoping you’d stick around,” Sai casually wraps his arms around his raised knee. “No, actually. That’s incorrect. He _believed_ you were here to stay. Imagine how upset he was to learn you’d disappeared–“

“Who cares what that idiot thinks,” Sasuke growls. One hand clenches, then he forces it back apart.

“He fought so hard for you, searched for so long–I thought you’d be more appreciative. To have someone like him pursue you without ever giving up–“

“I don’t give a fuck what _you_ think, either.” Sasuke cocks his head, expression and posture equally defiant.

“Well maybe there’s something you should consider. You know him–his strength, but also his limitations. If you’re hoping for a rescue…” Sai takes the slack in his chains and winds it around his wrist, then lets it pool next to his foot. He shrugs.

“I may be able to break these bonds. But I’m the _wrong_ member of Team Seven–I’m not the one who cares about you.”

Sasuke has no response to this save for closing down, all emotion falling away.

‘End of discussion,’ Sai thinks, picturing doors closed and then barred. He slides his finger along the crack where floor meets wall, and scoops enough dirt to scrape a second line on the cement beside him.

♦

Sasuke sleeps with the stillness of a born assassin, stretched out on his side and facing the wall. Sai wonders if this is how he’s always been … or if it’s a habit he acquired while living in Hidden Sound.

Sai gets up from his pallet and approaches. He keeps the noise to a minimum, but thinks it better for a few quiet sounds to give him away rather than surprising Sasuke awake–he hasn’t forgotten what happened that time. He kneels, intending to squeeze into the narrow unoccupied space of Sasuke’s futon.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Sai pauses, then continues to lie down next to him. “It’s lonely.” He reaches up to touch Sasuke’s mussed hair.

Instantly, Sasuke jabs him in the chest with his elbow, then flips over to pin him to the cold floor, forearm braced over his throat in warning. “I don’t want you near me.”

“It’s been three days already,” Sai whispers, with some effort. He moves his hands to Sasuke’s waist and slips his fingers under his shirt.

“ _Don’t touch me,_ ” Sasuke growls, twisting away–but he can’t stop Sai without undoing his hold.

Sai traces his thumbs over Sasuke’s stomach where he can sense the ink pattern sealing his chakra, a complex webbing over the surface of his skin stretching all the way from neck to ankles, front and back. It’s more or less what he expected–hidden by Sasuke’s clothes, and indiscernible to Sasuke’s non-artist touch. _Clever_.

Sai swallows under Sasuke’s hard grip. “It’s better to relieve the need than to let it build up, Sasuke-kun.”

“I _knew_ you were a pansy,” Sasuke presses harder on his throat, scowling in disgust. “Fuck off before I kill you.”

Sai keeps going, gently touching Sasuke’s taut muscles and following the pattern with curious fingertips, his palms seeing through to the unseen. “In Root this is common. We have no emotions, no feelings–we give and take our pleasure together so there are no distractions during missions from the side-effects of holding it in too long.”

Sasuke sneers. “Freaks.”

“Do you really object?” Sai lowers his fingers and hooks them into the elastic of Sasuke’s pants. “I’m sure it was the same when you lived with Orochi–“

Sasuke rolls them over a second time, grabbing hold of Sai and using the momentum to throw him across the room. This time, Sai’s ribs don’t hurt so much–he’s able to anticipate the throw and keep hold of Sasuke and flip them over again until Sasuke’s back slams into the steel bars of their cell. Sai plants a knee on Sasuke’s hip for his own protection, holding him there.

“Either way,” Sai leans in closer. “It’s better when you do it with someone else, don’t you agree?”

“Fuck you,” Sasuke snarls, his whole body vibrating with anger. “I said _stop_.”

“You don’t have to like me,” Sai whispers, angling his head to lick the side of Sasuke’s face. His tongue brushes over the lowest curlicue of ink at Sasuke’s temple. “You don’t have to feel anything at all. I’ll make it good for you–“

“I said _stop_ , you asshole.” Sasuke struggles to push him away–though they both know who can use their chakra and who can not. “Get off before I _kill you_.”

Sai pauses what he’s doing to look at him, face closed down though radiating with fury. He wonders how Sasuke does that. Sai releases his hold, and scoots further away to watch Sasuke pull himself upright, chains scraping against the bars, glaring in that eerie new way of his with eyes still sealed closed.

Sai tilts his head. “In Root there’s no need for force. We take care of each other. It’s simple.”

“Don’t try to lump me in with _you_ ,” Sasuke snaps. He gets to his feet, and Sai moves out of his way while he returns to his futon. Sasuke squares it back in place against the wall before sitting down in his usual position.

“Aren’t you lonely, Sasuke-kun?” Sai retreats to his futon, sitting in much the same fashion.

Sasuke scowls. “Jerk it if you have to. But _don’t_ come near me again.”

Sai reclines on his side, resting his head on his arm so his cellmate is still within view. “I won’t force you. But if you change your mind, you know where to find me.”

Sasuke seems to expect something more, but Sai just lies there. All he has to do now is wait.

Hours later he falls asleep. He’s not sure if even then, Sasuke does the same.

♦

After their next meal is finished, their empty trays stacked by the tiny slot at the front of the room, Sai becomes aware of Sasuke staring at him.

It’s strange to think of it as staring, but that’s exactly what it is. Sai makes no comment and amuses himself in the usual ways, drawing imaginary scenes in the air with his finger, doing push-ups or sit-ups or sitting motionless while meditating. Finally, Sasuke speaks.

“What is Root?”

Sai lounges more comfortably on his futon. He smiles. “We are the unseen ones who support the great tree of Konoha from the depths of the earth.”

Sasuke frowns. “That doesn’t answer my question.”

“It should,” Sai replies. “Not everyone in Konoha holds the same ideals as the Third. Danzou-sama is a military genius, one who understands the need for strength over diplomacy and meaningless paper treaties, and we of ANBU’s Root division follow his philosophies and methods. The Third disbanded us years ago … but I think you realize just how strong we are, and how far underground we stretch.”

“That’s it?” Sasuke scoffs. “From the way you talk I expected something better than a bunch of unsanctioned ANBU.”

Sai tilts his head. “You mean the unsanctioned ANBU that still managed to capture _you_?”

Sasuke’s posture changes into something arrogant; defiant. His teeth clench on the visible need to retort, but there’s nothing he can say against the truth.

“Danzou-sama is exactly what Konoha needs,” Sai continues. “Right now he’s sitting in the Hokage chair–so it would be best for you to consider who won or lost this recent battle before you make jokes.”

“Or what?” Sasuke cocks his head.

“Nothing you say will offend me, but there are others listening, I’m sure.”

“I thought none of you had feelings.”

“That’s true.” Sai’s eyes flick to the walls where he’s sure at least four cameras record every detail of every conversation. “But that doesn’t mean you can get away with insulting our leader. We who are his arms and legs can be very, very dangerous.”

“So far you don’t impress me,” Sasuke mocks, lip curling in a wicked, taunting sneer.

Sai smiles back. “Insulting me is meaningless; I won’t be bothered by anything you say. I don’t even really exist–Sai is just the name given to me along with the assignment to kill you, Sasuke-kun. I am nothing more than an emotionless tool of Danzou-sama.”

“A tool who _failed_.”

“Lucky for you.” Sai stretches his arms, then reclines on his futon, one hand propping his head.

“So Root is after Konoha, then. And Danzou wants power.” Sasuke’s voice is wry. “That’s nothing different.”

Sai doesn’t miss the nuances of these statements. “Root has a lot to offer. There are many shinobi up there grieving for ones who are dead, incapacitated and heartbroken by loss–it’s not the same for us. Can you imagine how much easier it is to feel nothing?”

“That’s not possible,” Sasuke’s brow furrows, shifting the lines of black painted on his eyelids. “Not even for shinobi of Kirigakure.”

Sai blinks in a moment of surprise, remembering Sakura and Yamato’s similar words. Out loud, he says, “Are you so sure?” He lets the question hang there, the silence working for him. “Emotions encumber a shinobi; emotions make them weak. Tie them down.”

“What happened to wanting to think for yourself?” Sasuke turns his head to face him. “Didn’t you reject your orders back then?”

“I may have gotten sidetracked,” Sai admits. “You know how he is …”

Sasuke stiffens, almost imperceptibly.

Sai takes a deep breath, and exhales. “I spent a lot of time with him. But I’ve learned the error of that way of thinking. I won’t make the same mistake again.”

Sasuke shifts, offering a wry chuckle. “You sound like you got dumped.”

Sai doesn’t respond to this. Instead he lets his eyes roam over Sasuke’s face, the odd angles of his unbrushed hair, the width of his shoulders, the lines of his fingers.

“What,” Sasuke sneers. “Touched a nerve?”

Sai lets him have his little joke, lying at ease.

Sasuke’s voice edges toward the sadistic. “You mean he didn’t like it when you got touchy-feely? He didn’t respond the way you thought he would?”

“I wonder what he sees in you,” Sai comments, interrupting.

Sasuke tenses up again, so Sai rolls over onto his stomach and laces his fingers beneath his chin, watching. “I wonder if it’s the darkness of your hair, or the fairness of your skin–what do you think?”

Sasuke glares a warning that Sai ignores. “Or is it your charming personality that makes him so obsessive?”

Sai keeps his words even and measured, tilting his head to the side while he watches. “Maybe he likes the way your Adam’s apple moves in your neck, or maybe he imagines how your arms would hold him, tight against you?”

“Shut. Up.” Sasuke’s face is murderous.

“Do you think if it was _you_ he’d have opened up and let it happen?”

“It was never like that!” Sasuke shouts, teeth bared.

Sai smiles. “Seems there are things even you would rather not feel–don’t you agree?”

Sasuke sits there, holding onto his fury since there is no real outlet.

“The pain of rejection, the guilt of assassination, the _death of a brother…”_ Sai gets up from the futon and settles into seiza once more. “None of these need be a burden. In Root we learn to cope in other ways, functioning with minds clear and hearts light, where all that exists is the mission. It’s not a bad way to live, given the choice.”

Sasuke remains silent, mouth and body closed off in a way Sai’s never quite been able to affect.

“What others are too weak to do, we of Root accomplish.” Sai moves the chains so they won’t pull on his wrists while he meditates. “Did that answer your question?”

♦

Sasuke doesn’t speak to him for most of the following day. Or at least Sai assumes a day has passed since one meal has come and gone, and the noise of the food cart rumbling at the far end of the hallway is coming closer to bring their next. Sasuke _should_ have a lot of things on his mind. But it’s also true that Sasuke probably doesn’t like him much, and likes to talk even less.

Sasuke sits there, waiting. Sai sits as well. When the cart comes into view, Sai smiles in the usual way–which saves him from the shock of Hyou-senpai standing with the two other members of Root ready to distribute the food, his presence rendering the smile unnecessary.

Hyou meets his eyes, holding them while he gets a tray and brings it to the narrow slot at the floor. He sets it down and pushes it inside enough to make room for the second tray; the cells aren’t really meant for joint occupancy. Sai can see what’s been brought, and hides the flip of his stomach, _very_ careful to give no unusual expressions. He watches Senpai reach for the second tray and slide it through, the contents identical. Senpai doesn’t say a word, or mouth instructions, or flash a hand sign, or tell him anything at all–the three of them turn and leave, taking the squeaks of the cart wheels with them.

Sai exhales. He gets up for his tray and looks down at the long, shallow dish of noodles and broth, the unmistakable combination of ingredients. _Ramen_.

But it has to be more than that, too.

Sai brings the food back to his area of the cell. The wide spoon doesn’t work so well, so Sai lifts the dish to his lips and slurps some of the broth first. Sasuke’s head turns in his direction at the sound, brows furrowing. Eventually he moves to get his own tray; Sasuke sits with it braced on his knees, feeling the steam with his open palm before lifting the dish to his nose.

“Is this … Ramen?” Sasuke asks. He holds it carefully, wary.

“Tastes like it,” Sai replies, sipping more broth. He sympathizes with Sasuke’s confusion–there are many questions on his mind as well, though probably not the same ones.

Sasuke sets his bowl back down on the tray without taking a single bite.

“They’ve never brought you Ramen before?”

“No.” Sasuke shakes his head.

“I see,” Sai spoons some of the noodles into his mouth and chews.

“Why would they bring Ramen?” Sasuke tilts his head, sealed eyes focused on the bowl in his lap.

Sai shrugs and eats another bite. “If they wanted to kill us, they wouldn’t need to use poison.”

“ _Yours_ might not be the one poisoned.”

“Don’t you think they would have killed you before today if they meant for you to die?”

“And you’re not the one assigned to kill me?”

“After I disobeyed Danzou-sama before?” Sai counters. “I doubt he’d trust me with the same mission a second time. It’s probably more likely that _you_ would kill _me_ , Sasuke-kun, given the circumstances. There aren’t any prisoners here as dangerous as you.”

Sasuke thinks about this for a few minutes more, before he lifts his bowl a second time and sniffs. He tastes the broth, then begins to eat although it’s clear he still distrusts the contents of his bowl. Sai finishes and drinks his tea, and puts the dishes aside, saving the naruto for last. He places it on his tongue mere moments before the entire building thunders around them.

_BOOM._ Every stone surface vibrates with the impact of an explosion high aboveground, or an earthquake rupturing something far, far below. It ripples the surface of the liquid left in Sai’s cup, perfect concentric circles of distress. Both of them freeze–ears perked in anticipation of a second shockwave.

Sai flicks his eyes over the walls and ceiling, aware of their position six stories underground, not sure how many more levels might be underneath them. Images of the ceiling caving in, of both of them crushed by a structural collapse flit by his awareness while he hears the far-off voices at the other end of the hall, shouts of alarm from the other prisoners separated from them by a stretch of empty cells. Next to this, the Ramen makes some sense.

“What was _that_?” Sasuke puts his meal to the side, braced for action.

“I’ll go see,” Sai says, moving towards the doorway and peeking out as far as he can by pressing his nose and one cheek through the bars. A set of track lighting flickers and goes out; there is no further movement down at the other end, or at least none that he can tell. Their headquarters must still be more or less intact. For now, anyway.

“No one’s coming,” he answers, keeping watch for a few more minutes. When no further incidents occur, he turns back for his empty tray and places it by the slot, then pads over to his futon.

Sasuke finishes his noodles, still wary–but survival instincts have kicked in. “Konoha isn’t prone to earthquakes,” he comments.

“No,” Sai agrees. Sasuke drinks his tea, and then puts his tray away.

“Is the battle still … ?”

Sai purses his lips, considering how best to answer. “Not exactly. Or at least not the battle you and your companions joined partway through. That one is finished.”

“Pein?”

Sai remembers the shock of Pein’s first serious attack, a mile of Konoha blown away in an instant. He remembers the awful moment Pein nearly killed Naruto–then the next awful moments Naruto nearly died killing Pein. The sight was indescribable.

“Dead,” Sai answers, voice flat. “His counterpart, too, the woman who used paper.” Sai doesn’t add that it was _his_ ink that drowned her.

Sasuke nods. “I already know what happened to Madara.” He smoothes both hands over his face, unaware of the ink-lines dividing him from his Sharingan.

Sai tucks the name away, outlining the kanji with a fingertip on his thigh to seal it in his memory. Then he folds his hands in his lap. “Things ended quickly after that.”

“… Tell me.”

Sai looks over at him, expecting the usual cocky arrogance. But it hadn’t been a demand–Sai realizes it’s the closest thing to a request he’s ever heard Sasuke make.

“Well I only know one side, of course. You’ll have to fill in the gaps.”

Sasuke doesn’t look happy about this bargain, but he nods an agreement.

Sai settles back against the concrete wall, one knee raised. Sasuke missed the best parts– _how_ to describe it? How to explain the enormity of Naruto’s new-gained power? Or the battle between him and Pein–so horrible and fantastic that any surviving Leaf shinobi who caught even a glimpse of it was left _awestruck_?

Sai doesn’t attempt the impossible; he simply begins.

“Pein attacked first. Many shinobi died during his search for Naruto–no one was expecting Akatsuki to infiltrate the barriers while he was away. Both Kakashi-san and Tsunade-sama fought against Pein before Naruto made it back to help defend the village. Kakashi-san died that afternoon.”

Sasuke’s head snaps towards him. “I don’t believe it.”

Sai gestures that he can believe what he wants. “Last I heard, Tsunade-sama was still in the functioning wing of the hospital under twenty-four hour ANBU surveillance. Pein put her in a coma–and the village Elders put Danzou-sama in her place as acting Hokage. Apparently there is little chance that her condition will change. She is probably still there … if someone from Root hasn’t gotten to her by now.”

Sasuke doesn’t say anything for some time. Sai waits patiently for him to add his side of the story: how he came to wear an Akatsuki cloak, how he managed to double-cross this “Madara” who used Pein’s battle to cover a secondary, more insidious attack. Sai can’t deny his own curiosity at how it must have played out for Sasuke, from the moment of Itachi’s death through the series of events that, in the end, brought him to the razed pit in the center of Konoha where he reaffirmed his bond with–

_“… Naruto?”_

Hearing aloud the very word in his thoughts takes Sai off guard. He stretches his feet out in front of him. “Naruto was badly wounded, but he survived. Danzou-sama won’t put him in danger again any time soon. If there’s one person Danzou-sama wants safe, it’s Konoha’s jinchuuriki.”

Sasuke goes quiet after this.

There’s nothing more for him to say, so Sai waits for Sasuke to elaborate at his leisure. He listens for more rumblings in the walls, wondering what exactly is happening on the surface. Hours pass, and their next meal arrives. Hyou-senpai isn’t in the group; Sai can’t tell what it means for him. He continues to wait, until their dishes are empty and stacked by the slot and a reminder of their bargain seems prudent.

“You still haven’t told me about Madara, Sasuke-kun.”

Sasuke’s lips press together. He crosses his arms over his raised knee and says, “I know,” before he lowers his head and rubs a hand through his hair. He straightens. “Later. Right now, I’d rather just _forget_.”

Sai reclines on his futon, thinking to take a nap. He smirks for the camera before closing his eyes.

‘ _It won’t be long now.’_

♦

The next meal is a repeat of Sai’s first. He realizes while mixing his rice and tofu sauce together that without clocks or windows these meals are their only way to tell time, evenly spaced twelve hours apart. Enough food and water to keep them alive … not enough to fuel any dangerous activities.

Sasuke has been unusually restless since finishing the food on his tray. Sai notices, but pays him no special attention. Instead, he arranges the chains at his ankles to get as close as possible to his regular meditative posture, and takes several deep breaths to calm his mind and body. He closes his eyes, which amplifies the quiet noises Sasuke makes in his part of the cell as he adjusts and readjusts his position on the futon, each tiny rustle or shift a sign of mental or physical disquiet. Or perhaps a bit of both.

Sai’s been here six days. Which means for Sasuke, it’s been _fourteen_. A long time to keep any ninja caged and leashed.

Sasuke picks his timing carefully, waiting until after Sai has finished his meditation, while he’s still relaxed and quiet. Sai puts his guard up, but doesn’t move away when Sasuke sits down, facing him, not a word needed to translate his actions.

Sai takes the bait. “Lonely?”

Sasuke’s brow furrows, warning him … Sai isn’t entirely sure of _what_ , but he knows it’s a warning.

“You said it’s simple. In Root.”

Sai nods. “Yes.” He reaches towards Sasuke’s hand and slides two fingers over the back of his knuckles, skipping over the steel band around his wrist to stroke up his forearm. “Simple.”

Sasuke’s skin breaks out in gooseflesh beneath the cuff of his sleeve. Once again, Sai can sense the presence of ink beneath his clothes like a secondary circulatory system, parched and constricting. He moves closer and rests a hand on Sasuke’s knee–Sasuke’s whole body goes rigid and unyielding as granite.

Sai pauses at this, wondering if he somehow miscalculated. “Have you never–“

Sasuke lunges for him, knocking him backward. He grabs and pins Sai’s arms flat by his head–two sets of chains snug over his throat–his legs equally trapped by Sasuke’s shins. Sai waits for something more to happen, Sasuke straddling him, the air suddenly charged and thick–he has the distinct feeling that if Sasuke could use his Sharingan he’d be in very big trouble.

Sai swallows the urge to clear his dry throat. “Or we can do it this way,” he says.

Sasuke smirks. Sai clamps his teeth on the urge to slug him, and forces his pulse back to evenness.

‘ _I have no name. I have no emotions.’_

He takes a deep breath. This is it. He _can not fail_.

‘ _All that exists is the mission.’_

Sai flexes his arms underneath Sasuke’s hands in a wordless request. Sasuke replies by moving his left hand and placing it on Sai’s chest, flat, not so much a caress as holding him down. Sai reaches his free hand to pull Sasuke down closer to him, but the chains impede the movement and his fingers don’t reach the line of Sasuke’s jaw as he intended. Sasuke frowns when Sai’s bindings catch mid-motion, and everything halts–both of them realize that this might not be so easy to accomplish with hands and feet encumbered and linked, whatever “this” turns out to be.

“I can’t touch you very well,” Sai says. He lifts one knee and rubs the back of Sasuke’s thigh; it’s awkward, but it gets the point across.

Sasuke grudgingly lets go of his other hand and stretches out partway beside him so they have better range, each on their sides. This reposition puts their faces close together, their arms caught between their bodies along with the chains. ‘ _Now what?’_ Sai wonders, feeling Sasuke’s even breaths pass over his cheek, the futon growing warm between them. For a moment he thinks it really isn’t going to work–this is _Uchiha Sasuke_ lying next to him, Konoha’s long-time traitor, and one-time hero. This isn’t some Feudal Lord’s second son he’s been assigned to seduce, or some rival village’s shinobi captain. This is … _different_.

But there’s no turning back now. Failure will not be tolerated.

‘ _All that exists is the mission.’_

Sai closes his eyes, then opens them. To start, he takes Sasuke’s hands and lifts them up to his face, knowing Sasuke can’t see a thing through the seal, and that it likely bothers him far worse than he’s let on–after all, this is someone who hides the noises of his bindings from the food deliverymen.

Sasuke’s fingertips are surprisingly gentle as he works out Sai’s appearance from something besides the memory of that day. Sai can’t help staring at him while he does this, betting that this will be the only time he’ll ever be this close to Uchiha Sasuke without one of them losing their life. He rests his palms on Sasuke’s chest, wondering for the thousandth time what Naruto sees in this person before him.

His eyes travel the delineation of Sasuke’s forehead and nose, the lines of his lips and mouth; no one could call Sasuke plain. Sai strokes his hands down the front of Sasuke’s body, feeling the structure of his bones underneath slim, sinewy muscles, tracing the arc of his ribcage. The prison diet has made them both leaner, Sai thinks, rubbing palms back up over pectorals and sliding thumbs outward along curved collarbones. He has the oddest urge to _paint_.

Sasuke’s hands slip into his hair, mildly disconcerting since the chain between Sasuke’s wrists wraps loosely across his neck. Then Sasuke digs fingers into his scalp; Sai gasps aloud, shivering from the tingles.

“You’re pretty responsive,” Sasuke says, somehow making it an insult.

Sai moves his hands to Sasuke’s neck and draws blunt fingernails gently down the sides and over the slant of his shoulders. Sasuke shudders all the way to his knees, skin prickled in gooseflesh.

“So are _you_.”

“Tch,” Sasuke scowls, then angles his head and kisses him.

Sai blinks, surprised, though he keeps his body relaxed and moves his lips accordingly. He wasn’t expecting Sasuke to be the type to kiss; he hadn’t thought they’d bother. Sasuke holds his head with both hands still in his hair and _kisses_ him, supple lips delivering test nibbles and bites that speed his pulse. Sai makes fists in Sasuke’s shirt collar when Sasuke’s tongue invades.

‘ _We taste the same…’_ he notices, puzzled for a short moment before Sasuke’s kisses demand his focus. What he might lack in technique he makes up for in arrogance; Sai follows his lead for a time, trying to pretend Sasuke is anyone but who he is. His senses can’t be fooled, though. There’s no one quite like _him_. Which is why everyone seems to want him for themselves.

The thought makes him angry–an emotion he can’t afford. Sai presses closer and takes over the kiss, hands wandering over the front of Sasuke’s chest. Their body heat spikes; Sai reaches and tucks his fingers into Sasuke’s hair and _tugs_ , aroused by Sasuke’s brief whimper, but then Sasuke breaks away from him, his scowl back in place.

“ _Move_ ,” he demands, lifting Sai’s hands up and over his head so the chains settle behind him instead of across his neck.

“Whatever you say, Sasuke-kun,” Sai replies, twining his arms around Sasuke’s shoulders instead, keeping the chains out of the way.

Sasuke inches closer, only the slightest hesitation before bending his mouth to Sai’s lips once more. Sai closes his eyes and runs his hands down Sasuke’s back, following the gentle slope of his spine while Sasuke is content on only kissing–again, Sai feels a mild spark of panic that perhaps he’s miscalculated somewhere, and all of this will amount to nothing … even if the kissing is getting better and better, lips and tongues learning to collaborate in record time.

Then Sasuke moves his leg, and all at once Sai understands something about his temporary partner. He shifts his knee in accommodation and doubles the efforts of his mouth, and Sasuke groans against his lips and grinds forward in response. Sai slides his hands lower and tries to bring them around to the front of Sasuke’s hips–but the chain between his wrists isn’t long enough for him to reach. He jerks against it, trying to shift it over to one side so at least one of his hands can grab hold of Sasuke’s erection, but it’s no use. Sai pulls his arms back up to unhook them over Sasuke’s head but Sasuke nips his lip and growls.

“‘Don’t,” he warns, tightening his hold on Sai’s scalp.

Sai frowns and lowers his hands back down onto Sasuke’s lower back, impatient to move things along. “I want to feel you, Sasuke-kun.”

“You can’t feel me?” Sasuke smirks and nuzzles his neck while his hips grind forward in small, steady thrusts.

Sai grinds back, his cock rubbing close to Sasuke’s through their layers of clothing. He can’t see it from this position, can’t estimate its size or girth without the use of his hands, which is _maddening_.

“I want to feel you with my hand,” Sai says, whispering in Sasuke’s ear, trying a different tactic. “I want to tease and stroke your length until you come all over my fingers and then I want to suck you way down deep in my–“

“ _Shut up.”_ Sasuke clamps their lips together, pressing him onto his back–but not before Sai catches sight of his flushed nose and cheeks.

Sasuke works his hands down the front of Sai’s stomach and slips the left one into the front of his pants. Sai jerks when he grabs hold and roughly strokes him while they kiss. ‘ _What the hell are you doing?’_ he wants to ask, but doesn’t dare. He curves his fingers into Sasuke’s back and slides them lower until he can grab onto his firm ass. He squeezes, and Sasuke’s hand falters, a clumsy off-rhythm. Sai takes advantage of this and grinds harder against Sasuke’s cock, so close and so hard but too far from his reach.

“Mmm, Sas–” Sai moans into the kiss, Sasuke’s hand moving too fast and too rough for his liking. “W-wait–“

“Isn’t this what you wanted?” Sasuke pants, lips hovering over his mouth.

Sai pulls his wrist-chain taut across Sasuke’s ass, trapping the hand between them and holding so tight he can’t move. “Let me touch it,” he whispers, then licks his tongue between Sasuke’s lips, inviting more mouth service of the kind Sasuke seems to crave.

Sasuke makes a frustrated noise and withdraws his hand, pushing Sai’s arms upward and ducking out from under the chains. He shifts the waistband of his pants below his hard cock and rolls his hips forward.

“Is _this_ what you want, then?”

Sai’s hands slide down Sasuke’s front and finally take hold of him, gentle, inquisitive, fitting fingers around him and smoothing him over from tip to base and back, measuring. Sasuke tries not to shiver. From the hardness, Sai can tell it’s been quite some time since Sasuke’s last orgasm.

“Hmm…” He salivates in conclusion, but shrugs anyways. “…It’ll do.”

Sasuke bares his teeth, but Sai wastes no time distracting him, angling his chin upward for a kiss while entwining their legs. Sasuke kisses him with a different kind of urgency now, arching into his hand and eventually remembering to return the favor, this time matching Sai’s pace and pressure. At some point, kissing becomes too difficult with their increased heart rate; Sai leans in and nibbles Sasuke’s neck, but Sasuke jerks away, hissing. Sai ignores this and leans in a second time, sucking on his earlobe and garnering the opposite reaction.

Sasuke moans through clenched teeth, nuzzling into Sai’s shoulder to muffle the noise. Sai is sure his cellmate must have forgotten all about the cameras by now, panting heat into his collar–Sasuke’s wrist speeds up, and Sai closes his eyes to concentrate on what must be done, on what this is all about. Soon Sasuke’s fingers, the ones not tight around his cock and stroking him towards climax, dig into his shirt and hold tight despite the many lengths of chains in the way. It’s so close, but Sai comes a split second sooner so that Sasuke won’t hold anything back, will just _let go–_

The wash of pleasure drowns out any sounds they make. Before anything can interrupt, Sai inhales a deep breath and tips the hourglass: The real race begins in earnest.

Warm and sticky–it doesn’t matter _whose_ it is–Sai coats his right hand and slips it underneath Sasuke’s shirt to rest on his heart, his left hand pressed into the wetness on Sasuke’s stomach. He moans and licks into Sasuke’s ear, just another part of their lovemaking, while his fingertips activate with chakra and transmit it, lines so thin, into the moistened ink markings Sasuke has never seen.

With effort, Sai feeds them, moves them one brushstroke at a time, makes them jump to life with his touch; he shifts and _transforms_ them, changing them into something decorative and innocuous, releasing the densest section of Sasuke’s chakra pathways hidden by the dark fabric of Sasuke’s shirt. Sai exhales a sigh when he’s done all he can manage from this first round.

Sasuke twitches more than once in the short duration, uncomfortable, then he holds him tight at the waist and kisses the side of his neck, murmuring nonsense in what could be perceived as the afterglow. He dissembles well, considering. But maybe he’s used to such deception.

Sai presses his lips to the corner of Sasuke’s mouth while the truth of their situation sinks in: That was step one. And they are far from finished.

Sasuke should already feel the difference; under the weight of comprehension Sasuke eases away from him, straining against the urge to use what chakra he can now access after two weeks cut off from it. Sai’s heart thumps in his chest–if there was ever a moment this could all go wrong, backfire right in their faces, this would be _it_. One slip and their cell will be flooded with members of Root, all chances eliminated along with their lives.

No… the danger is _Sasuke_ –too valuable for Danzou-sama to eliminate no matter if they’re caught. Sai looks up into his face and knows that if he wanted, Sasuke could betray him now and gain entry to Root’s most elite corps, no questions asked. But Sai is counting on a different temptation to bring their freedom–the one who binds them all the same.

Sasuke, once recovered, flashes the most satisfied smirk Sai has ever seen. “Now that I know what a slut you are, I think I’ll be taking full advantage.”

Sai gives his default smile, hiding the thump in his chest–or perhaps Uchiha Sasuke is the type to wait until the very end before choosing betrayal.

He smoothes a hand over Sasuke’s thigh where it crosses over his. “Jerking off is kinda juvenile, don’t you think? But if you’re satisfied with only–“

“Just try and keep up,” Sasuke licks his lips and bends towards him.

Sai opens his mouth to accept Sasuke’s tongue, just as he’s opened his mouth for countless senpai and kouhai.

Only none of _them_ trembled in the initiation … or tasted of mild anxiety.

Sai lets Sasuke kiss him until their mutual anxiety melts away–he can’t let cold feet destroy everything. Time seems to stretch on, an infinity of clenching heartbeats. Sasuke cooperates with him, now, for the most part, though there is still friction. ‘ _All that exists is the mission,’_ Sai repeats and repeats, ignoring the way Sasuke’s body learns to move with his, disregarding the things that make Sasuke so different from any of his partners within Root. It still takes hours to make any progress.

They keep their clothing _on_.

Sai learns that Sasuke has no tolerance for teeth on his neck. He licks him there instead, tongue tracing up the curve of his ear while grinding hips into Sasuke’s backside and working up a good sweat. He knows Sasuke isn’t comfortable with this, cheek pressed to the futon, Sai curled over his back with hands at his groin or stroking the points of his nipples overtop his shirt. Sai does it anyways, his hard cock nestled under Sasuke’s ass and moving between his thighs.

Sai gauges the quantity of sweat sticking Sasuke’s shirt to the muscles in his back and changes their position enough to do his work. Sasuke doesn’t like it, struggling against the hands lifting his ass higher into the air.

“Relax,” Sai whispers, kissing along Sasuke’s spine.

“ _Don’t,”_ Sasuke growls, shivering anyhow. The hair at the back of his neck is as damp as his shirt.

Sai flushes, for some reason, and brings his hands to the wet they’ve created. He braces himself while thrusting between Sasuke’s thighs, and focuses his mind on the brushwork he can sense below his palms, through the cotton-weave, easing a trickle of chakra into the network and forcing it to bend into something else; something useless, something pretty. As soon as he starts, Sasuke’s legs tighten and he grinds up to meet him, moving subconsciously towards the awaiting peak.

Sai closes his eyes and tilts his head back, working as fast as possible. His palms can cover a wide area this way, sweat dripping down the sides of his face, strained to the limits. Sasuke shudders under him from the unsealing, a fist at his mouth to keep silent. Sai unlocks Sasuke’s muscles and organs one by one down to the small of his back, then holds onto the bared skin of his hips and sends his chakra forward to Sasuke’s navel.

This either hurts, or feels exquisite, he thinks, listening to Sasuke’s groans. Sai flushes, again.

“Can I… ?” he murmurs, guiding his cock up between Sasuke’s ass cheeks.

“ _NO.”_

Sai bites his lip, part of him wanting to do it anyways. But that’s not what this is about.

‘ _All that exists is the mission,’_ he reminds himself, watching his cock disappear back between Sasuke’s legs.

A few seconds more and the seals around Sasuke’s abdominals snap open, a rush of energy that threatens to spill out and give them away. Sasuke gasps and goes rigid with the struggle to hold it in–Sai thrusts twice more then shoots his load, hands gripping the backs of Sasuke’s thighs. His thumbs curve into the muscles and spread chakra down the markings on the inside of Sasuke’s legs as far as he can before he falters: Exhaustion is catching up with him.

Sasuke exhales when he stops, and Sai leans to the side and reaches for Sasuke’s hardness, when they hear something unexpected: squeaking wheels at the end of the hall.

‘ _Already?’_ Sai thinks, glancing over his shoulder. The three sets of accompanying footsteps are unmistakable.

Sasuke immediately tries to move away. “Get _off_.”

“But you haven’t come yet–“

“I don’t care,” Sasuke snaps, pushing up onto hands and knees and elbowing him out of his way. He yanks his pants back into place and retreats to his futon; Sai lets him go.

Sasuke sits in his usual position, knees drawn up and sealed eyes glaring at the bars of their cage. Sai stretches out on his side to wait, thinking it silly to stop in the middle–the undeniable aroma of sex and sweat will reveal their activities whether they’re caught in the midst of it or pretend nothing has happened. It’s not like they haven’t had an audience the entire time.

The cart doesn’t move very fast; they have long minutes to wait before it reaches their door. Sasuke doesn’t move a muscle when it does.

Sai smiles at his Root comrades, as always. He recognizes two of the faces, but not the third; even so, many in Root look much the same, naturally blending in.

The one who pushes their trays through the slot chuckles, glancing at him before eyeing Sasuke. “Well, well. Uchiha got seduced after all,” he comments, rising.

Sai is glad Sasuke can’t see the accompanying leer.

“We were wondering how long it would take,” the Senpai chuckles again, this time joined by the other two. “He gives good head, doesn’t he?”

“Almost as good as his ass,” the other Senpai adds.

Sasuke doesn’t respond at all; the epitome of indifference, even with some of that smug superiority showing through the corners–the kind shown when one possesses something other men desire.

Sai continues to smile. “He won’t thank you for interrupting, Senpai.”

“He better enjoy it while he can,” Senpai shrugs. They turn to leave. “He’s only got dibs on you for so long. Then we all get a piece.”

The cart squeaks away, slowly.

Sai gets his food and eats, hungrier than ever. He’s somewhat grateful for the break, but … he glances at Sasuke, getting up to retrieve his food tray. The charge in the air has changed. It will be hard to pick up where they left off; that much is certain.

They eat, wrapped in silence as thick as the chain-links binding them.

Sasuke’s resilience surprises him, however. He pushes his tray to the side and cocks his head, indicating his futon. “Oi. I haven’t been satisfied yet.”

Sai abandons his side of the room and crosses to Sasuke’s seated form, keeping his chains from getting tangled when he sits deliberately in Sasuke’s lap. Sasuke’s hands hesitate in touching him, finally resting along his ribs, fingers digging into his shirt, stuck. Sai gently lifts Sasuke’s arms and ducks under the chains, putting his hands where they can rest on his shoulders, loose or tight, a gentle coaxing to get him comfortable enough to continue–the erection from before is long gone.

“How do you want it, Sasuke-kun?” Sai asks, sliding his hands over Sasuke’s chest. “In my mouth, or in my ass?”

Sasuke’s lips start to frown, then they smooth back to blankness. “You really don’t feel anything about this, do you.”

“No.” Sai touches the edge of Sasuke’s lower lip. “And neither should you.”

Sasuke snaps his teeth–Sai pulls his hand away in time to avoid being bitten.

“Just show me what a Root ANBU is capable of.”

Sai doesn’t need to answer with words.

♦

Despite the prompting of his Senpai, Sasuke does not, in fact, let him give a blowjob. Like teeth on his neck, Sasuke’s tolerance for mouth, lips, or tongue anywhere near his cock is less than infinitesimal, and intense enough to blow their cover into ten thousand shattered pieces. Sai doesn’t repeat the attempt for obvious reasons; it’s also not a situation where he can acknowledge the disappointment–that can come later, if they survive. Assuming he chooses to retain any of the details once the mission is complete.

Sasuke does other things, body curled behind him and hands moving on his bare tummy, pulling his shirt up and taking his time with Sai’s abs before moving lower and teasing him all over again. Sai can reach his arms this way, rubbing Sasuke’s muscles and holding on while his temperature rises, sweat breaking out all down his back from the slowness of simple touches that serve a more complex purpose. He closes his eyes and visualizes the areas of the canvas that still need erasing, and a long, torturous period commences, one of a surreal intimacy.

Through careful actions and reactions, and Sasuke’s half-willing, yet thorough participation, Sai reworks the trap set upon Sasuke’s skin and releases the deep, dangerous powers many have coveted: Orochimaru. Itachi. Madara. _Danzou_.

The eyes are saved for last.

Sasuke slips inside the circle of his legs, kneeling over him on the futon. Sai crosses his ankles at the small of his back, and aligns their hips, the chains an encumbering presence they’ve both learned to ignore. Sasuke places his cuffed wrists behind Sai’s head before kissing him, slow, hair falling forward and helping conceal them from the cameras. Sai strokes both hands from Sasuke’s jaw into his hair as they kiss, gravity keeping the chain away from Sasuke’s throat as he prefers. They take their time, unwilling to act with a haste that could make their captors suspicious.

Their arousal builds, skin flushed and muscles flexing, grinding, tongues in synch. Sai lifts his chin, nose edging along Sasuke’s until he can press his lips to a fragile eyelid. He licks his lips and repeats the motion, weightless flicks of his tongue imbued with a purpose far greater than the consequences.

Sasuke turns away when it becomes too uncomfortable, licking Sai’s neck for an interval and retaining the slow motions of his hips and thighs. Sai arches towards him, aware of the energy contained just below the surface of Sasuke’s body, churning and racing faster than the regular pulse in his veins. Then Sasuke brings their lips together and lets Sai continue with the final steps.

Sai’s tongue flits over the scribbles of madness, light as a dragonfly balancing on water. The taste is bitter, smoky, almost pungent in its potency. His sensei was serious when sealing Sasuke’s powers, every tiny character etched with the fear of what Sasuke’s revenge could mean for his captors. Sai has to concentrate on how to break the code, how to morph the strokes with their counterparts to negate the effects; Sasuke’s tensing muscles belie his impatience, though he keeps it in check.

Finally, the last of the pieces fit–Sai kisses Sasuke on each temple and then holds him still between his palms, foreheads pressed together. Sasuke takes a deep breath, and Sai tightens his thighs around Sasuke’s hips to steady them before thrusting his chakra into the seal binding the most sensitive area of an Uchiha.

Sasuke bucks, then holds on tighter and rocks them, back and forth, while Sai uses almost everything he has to release what’s held within Sasuke’s eyes. He clenches his teeth from the intensity, the last of the ink shifting away from the deep line of Sasuke’s lashes and squirming down his cheeks in a sort of macabre warpaint.

They both gasp when it’s done–Sasuke lifts his head, and Sai stares wide-eyed while those lashes part for the first time.

Sasuke stares down, expressionless. Then scarlet eclipses glossy black and Sai feels the chain between Sasuke’s wrists snap in twain.

“Let’s go,” he whispers.

They shed their chains like snakeskin and jump to their bare feet. Without hesitation Sasuke fashions a blade of chakra from his left hand and slices through the bars of their cell in two diagonals, lengths of steel clattering to the ground. Sai knots the end of his longer chain into something useful while Sasuke chooses a pointed bar to carry as they exit into the hallway, running past the rows of empty and then occupied cells.

“Weapons?” Sasuke glances to him.

“Left, then up,” Sai answers.

Sasuke falls to his wing, letting him take point. By the time their fellow prisoners realize something has happened, he and Sasuke are already one floor above. Even with camera feeds they’re able to take down several of Root’s patrolmen before meeting any real resistance. Sasuke does something with the Sharingan to incapacitate the first three–they confiscate their weapons pouches, and Sai exchanges his length of chain for the standard Root tanto. A hasty search produces a small blank scroll and portable inkpot which Sasuke tosses to Sai. The next batch is even easier. But then Hyou-senpai comes, flanked by four more Senpai in battle attire.

Sai kneels and paints a string of crows. Sasuke leaps up the wall to the ceiling and spits fire, a blossom of orange light in the otherwise dim passageway. Sai’s birds fly uninjured through the smoke and flames to blind their opponents–Sasuke’s speed is unmatched. All but Hyou-senpai fall, shielded by a water jutsu that turns to a steamy drizzle in the corridor.

He and Sasuke _run_. None of Root can truly stand against them, jutsu joined in concert, techniques and abilities merging seamlessly as if they’ve always been on the same side. Sai’s only surprise is that neither of them aim to kill.

Hyou-senpai pursues them relentlessly, keeping them from reaching the weapon storage wing, but even he falls behind and gets buried under some explosive jutsu of Sasuke’s. Sai doesn’t look back. He takes them up and up, to the square of light at the end of one hallway that leads to the mine-shaft’s opening, structural pillars braced with bridges and ramps like the interior of some enormous anthill. They stop at the edge of this vast open space–Sasuke gazes up, Sai kneels down and paints something large enough for two.

The scroll-paper ruffles, and then the great bird emerges and circles the air in front of them. Sai glances to the side and then jumps off the edge, freefalling, then landing between its fantastic wings. A moment later Sasuke lands just behind him. The bird courses downward before swooping underneath the crossbeams of an archway to change direction and spiral upward.

“My sword.” Sasuke grabs Sai’s arm and squeezes.

Sai shakes his head–there’s no way they can go back. Not like _this_ , half starved, dehydrated, and fatigued. There are shouts from the left, Sai turns his head to gauge the danger and Sasuke is suddenly standing, feet braced as if he’s going to leap off. Sai opens his mouth to assure him he can get another sword, or he can come back later if it matters that much, both hands reaching to stop him from leaving when they’re so close–

Sasuke takes a deep breath and covers their escape with bursts of fire-coated shuriken, drowning the last of Root’s defense units in rubble and smoke. The bird crests up into the rafters of Root’s underground tower and Sai and Sasuke jump off together at just the right timing to slip through the circular, open balcony and then into treecover, moving from branches to roof shingles to the drainpipes decorating Konoha’s skyline.

The sky is open, that somber grey-blue between day and night with a scatter of stars just beginning to sparkle.

“There could be more,” Sai warns, thinking of all the Root ANBU who live out in the village instead of underground in their headquarters. Radios and summons should already have alerted anyone in position to intercept them. Sasuke cracks his knuckles, following on his heels.

Sai takes them around the edge of the battle wreckage, knowing it suicide to visit his apartment after today’s actions. There is only one place that’s safe for them, so he concentrates on finding the right part of town and then seeks the right building with his chakra, pushing their flight to the limits. If Sasuke feels the strain, he doesn’t let it show; Sai can feel him breathing down his neck. He takes them across some power lines and then swings down a banister, heart thumping when they make it to the right porch unscathed, windows glowing with cozy yellow light.

Sasuke lands behind him, grabbing his wrist before Sai can knock.

“ _NO_.” He hisses. “Not here.”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sai looks him in the eye–somewhat startled by the fierceness of Sasuke’s unsealed glare. He swallows. “This is the only place they won’t attack when they come for us.”

“Bullshit,” Sasuke bares his teeth in a scowl. “There has to be–“

“There _isn’t_ ,” Sai insists, gritting his teeth and showing his impatience for the first time. He shakes his arm free from Sasuke’s deathgrip. Against Sasuke’s wishes, he knocks on the door, bracing himself.

Voices mutter from inside, unintelligible through the door. Footsteps come closer, a lively skip up to the threshold; Sai holds his breath in recognition.

Naruto opens the door, the lamps behind him too bright for eyes that have been in semi-darkness for hours, days, and weeks. Sai can’t help the tiny cringe, holding up a hand while pupils adjust. “Good evening–“

“ _Sai_?!” Naruto interrupts, face in shock. Someone murmurs from behind him; a female.

Sai attempts a smile, eyes flicking over the faces seated at a table off to the side, still more shinobi peering around the corner from the kitchen. He steps inside. “Hello Naruto-kun, may I please–“

Naruto grabs him by the shirt so fast Sai doesn’t have a chance block him. “Where the _fuck_ have you been?” Naruto shakes him, hard and angry, face that fierceness that tightens Sai’s belly every single time.

‘ _He’s healed,’_ Sai realizes, pleased at the strength he can feel in Naruto’s arms right before a tanned fist lands square in his face, knocking his head to the side. Sai goes limp, jaw exploding in pain, ears ringing with the other raised voices in the room, Naruto’s first and foremost in his awareness.

“You fucking asshole!” Naruto shouts, shaking him again. “Gimme a reason why I shouldn’t kick your ass _right now_! Have you _any_ idea what we’re going through because of your buddy _Danzou_ –“

“ _Shut up_ , moron,” comes a familiar growl, cutting through the rest of the din.

Sai blinks his eyes back open to see the stunned expression on Naruto’s face as Sasuke takes one step into the apartment.

Naruto drops him on the floor, the room hushed. Sai lands in a sprawl, face squinting from the jarring pain in his ribs, and then rubs his jaw while wondering whether they’re all staring at the ink remnants on Sasuke’s face, or the general dishevelment of his clothing. It might be the case for Ebisu or Shikamaru … but not Naruto. Not Sakura. Sasuke could have a shaved head and they wouldn’t care–as long as it meant he was back.

Naruto doesn’t say a single thing, just moves and grabs Sasuke with both arms, holding tight, reverent and shaking with emotion. Sasuke stands there and endures it, one fist clenched, but his red eyes shift to where Sai sits on the floor, their gazes locked, sharpened with blame and discontent.

The feeling is mutual.

Sai gets to his feet, brushing the dust from his stained and dirty clothing. “Excuse me,” he says, smiling as he walks past Neji and Inuzuka Hana to where he guesses is the direction of the washroom, turning his back on the scene in the doorway.

♦

A large hound blocks his way before he gets very far, a Shikoku cross breed, he thinks, brown and grey fur ruffled in warning.

“Hold it.”

Sai turns to look over his shoulder, face blank, benign.

Hana steps up around him, fingers curling into the dog’s ruff.

Neji comes up too, a silent, disapproving presence.

Shikamaru stands not too far away, hands in his pockets. “How do we know we can trust you?”

Sasuke pushes Naruto away from him and steps further into the room to scowl directly at Sai. “You can trust him.”

Shikamaru looks like he wants to say something, but none of them stop Sasuke from going where he pleases once he fires that glare of his in their direction. “Excuse us,” he mutters, passing the others and grabbing Sai by the arm, dragging him into the washroom.

Sai shakes off his hand while Sasuke closes the door. “Don’t come in here,” Sasuke calls through the panel.

Naruto’s voice–among others–raises in questions or protests, probably several of both. A furious discussion takes place on the other side of the door while he and Sasuke stare at each other in silence. This just prolongs the inevitable; Sai knows that at some point they have to face the shinobi on the other side of the door, with or without explanations. Though, their simultaneous arrival and matching attire–not to mention their scent–might have answered the immediate questions.

Finally, Sai ignores him and goes for the sink, turning the tap and splashing water on his face–he doesn’t like smelling like another man when Naruto is so close by. He doesn’t want to give him the wrong idea. If he hasn’t already.

Sasuke stands there, scowling, watching him cup his hands and drink. Someone taps on the door. Sasuke cocks his head, listening to words too muffled for Sai to hear it past the noise of running water. Then Sasuke opens the door wide enough for Neji to pass over a bundle of folded clothing and then retreat. Sasuke sets it down on a clean, dry surface, but still says nothing.

Sai turns away from him and strips the shirt from his body, irritated by his presence and unwilling to wait for him to speak what’s on his mind. “I’m going first.”

In a flash, Sasuke is before him, one hand held out to make him stop. “ _Why?”_

Sai tilts his head. “I’m all dirty, so I want to take a bath.”

Sasuke bares his teeth, but doesn’t touch him. “Not _that_ ,” he seethes, chakra leaking from him in angry waves. “ _Why?”_

“Did you want to go first, Sasuke-kun?”

“ _NO_ ,” Sasuke snaps.

Sai narrows his eyes. “Don’t worry–I won’t be long. You’re dirtier than I am.”

Sasuke’s mouth thins until all Sai can see are his eyes. Then he shoves past him and goes to the sink. Sai slips out of the stolen shuriken holsters and takes off his pants, furtively ignoring the splashing going on behind him and taking a seat on the one stool resting on the tiled floor. Sai carefully unwinds the days-old tape keeping his more or less healed ribs in place. Then he turns on the spray and reaches for the bar of soap nearby–but he can’t ignore what happens when Sasuke finally looks in the mirror.

Sasuke yanks him up by the hand, twisting his arm behind his back and forcing him to face the mirror where Sasuke’s red eyes and pale skin are flecked with black ink. “Undo this. _Now_.”

Sai fights the panic in his arm, twisted and in pain. He looks at Sasuke’s reflection and decides he hates this person. “Why should I?”

“I want this off me,” Sasuke grinds his teeth, adding more pressure to his hold in warning.

Sai chuckles. “I’m the one who unsealed you.” He cocks his head. “I could seal you again.”

“You will get this off me,” Sasuke moves his other hand around to Sai’s throat and tips his head back. “ _Now_.”

“Is this how you act when you don’t get your way, Sasuke-kun?”

Sasuke seethes, eyes burning red in the glass. “Get. This. Off. Me.” His hands and arms squeeze tighter; the coiled embrace of an Anaconda.

Sai doesn’t fight back. “Break my arm, or my neck, and I can’t do it at all, Sasuke-kun.”

“ _What do you want?!”_ Sasuke screams, the burst of anger and frustration shuddering through his whole body.

Sai closes his eyes. ‘ _I want you to go away,’_ he thinks. But he knows that won’t solve anything, won’t bring him any closer to the one he cares for most. Perhaps he’s known that for a long time, long before Akatsuki attacked Konoha, and long before Naruto broke down in his lap, tortured by grief. It may be futile. But he doesn’t have to accept it willingly.

Sai lowers his brows in imitation of Sasuke’s scowl. “After this, I never want to see you again.”

Sasuke lets him go. There are marks on his arm and on his throat from Sasuke’s hands.

Sai gets his scroll of paper, unwinding a huge length while Sasuke strips and wets his skin with water, both of them naked in a frankness that denies all previous experiences. Sai indicates where Sasuke should stand, and doesn’t give him much warning before murmuring the incantation and drawing all that ink down Sasuke’s skin, sucking it into the paper. Sasuke makes no noise, face screwed up in concentration; Sai still isn’t certain whether it just hurts, or something else, too.

Doing this now serves a purpose, Sai supposes–Hyuuga Neji will see enough to ensure that full explanations won’t be needed. The ink bleeds all the way to the edge of the scroll, then seeps through the dry fibers in both directions until the last of it wriggles over Sasuke’s toes. Sai rolls the scroll up tight and ties it off, part of him glad to have this rare ink at his disposal. Without another word, he returns to the stool and scrubs his skin free of dirt, sweat, and semen, ridding his body of sex, prison, and battle. He soaks in the tub for short minutes of cleansing heat, then he dresses in borrowed clothes and puts his dirty belongings in the corner for disposal before leaving Sasuke alone.

Let everything between them end here.

♦

The small living room is quiet. Sai finds the group of them waiting expectantly, Sakura, Naruto, and the other four all seated at a makeshift conference table.

Nothing is said aloud, but he can tell that they all have made some guesses at the truth, and that they mistrust both their conclusions–and _them_. Naruto might be the exception, but Sai is certain that soon enough he’ll begin asking questions.

Sai bows. “Please pardon the intrusion.” When he straightens, Sasuke is standing at his shoulder in clean clothes.

“We’ll be staying here for the night,” he announces.

Sai joins the rest of the room in stunned silence; there hasn’t been an invitation yet.

Ebisu sniffs. “I thought Sai _had_ an apartment already? Why don’t you just go there?”

Sasuke isn’t the only one who turns to Sai in nonverbal accusation.

Sai tries to make his face pleasant. “That apartment belongs to Root. I can no longer return there.”

Ebisu frowns, and looks away. Neji lifts one eyebrow. Shikamaru folds his hands, elbows resting on the table.

“Look,” Naruto says. “They stay here okay? At least for tonight.”

No one offers further argument, though the room is uncomfortable. Sakura recovers first, rising to her feet. “Of course you can stay here.” She bonks Naruto on the head. “Hurry up and get them something to eat!”

“Ow, don’t hit,” Naruto lunges to his feet. He flashes them a grin and trots off to the kitchen, as if that settled the matter.

“I want to check you over,” Sakura faces them, hands on her hips. “I’m sure you’re fine, but still.”

Sai notices the slight flaring of her nostrils and knows she’s expecting to be brushed off–and not by _him_.

Shikamaru is the next to stand, and the others follow suit. “Well,” he rubs the back of his head, “We’ll get on our way.”

“No.” Sasuke steps forward. “I want a full debriefing.”

“Wait, Sasuke-kun–” Sakura holds her hand up.

“Who are you to demand–” Neji begins.

“I agree,” Naruto comes back from the kitchen, drying his hands on a dishtowel.

“Are you an idiot?” Ebisu interjects.

Naruto talks over him. “We should continue the discussion from earlier and–“

“In the _morning_.” Shikamaru swells his voice with enough authority to quell the burgeoning argument.

Sasuke crosses his arms.

Naruto protests. “But he just got here, and–“

“Let them eat first,” Hana moves behind Shikamaru, her hound following. She doesn’t quite meet their eyes. “They must be tired.”

“ _Naruto_ ,” Sakura points at the kitchen. He glares at her. “We agreed. We’ll talk about it later.”

Shikamaru lifts a hand and then opens the door for the rest of their group to exit, leaving just Naruto and Sakura behind.

Sai waves politely, feeling the need to make up for Sasuke’s pushiness. He turns around. “Naruto-kun,” he says, “Let me help you.” Sai takes the dishtowel and ushers Naruto back into the kitchen, disregarding Sasuke’s scowl.

“Thanks,” Naruto returns to the stove and sniffs the contents of a large stewpot.

“Alright, now let’s check you out Sasuke-kun… ” Sakura murmurs from the living room.

“I’m fine, Sakura,” comes the reply.

Sai closes his eyes and blocks out the sound of Sasuke’s voice, focusing instead on the shinobi in front of him grasping a ladle and stirring in clockwise rotations.

♦

They learn the apartment is actually Shikamaru’s, but is hardly ever empty. Naruto seems quite at home without Shikamaru there, bringing out the guest futons–the only kind in the place–and lining them edge to edge in the small living room, which tells Sai how often he’s stayed here in the last fortnight.

Sasuke starts the first fight by insisting he’d rather sleep in the back bedroom. _Alone_.

“But we all can’t fit back there!” Naruto shouts, stomping after him.

“So?” Sasuke scowls. “Why should I have to sleep out there?”

“Because we should all stick together.” Naruto glares.

“Why?” Sasuke leans in. “Were those your orders?”

“Wha–” Naruto steps back, then flushes in embarrassment. “No! That’s not how it is, so just quit being an ass and get in there, okay?”

“What do I get in return?” Sasuke cocks his head.

“What do you mean?” Naruto frowns.

Sasuke steps closer, intruding in his personal space. “If I go back in there, as you requested, what will you do for me in return?”

“That’s…” Naruto trails off, at a loss. Sai watches his blond brows furrow, his feet shifting further apart in automatic defense. “Why are you making this such a big deal?”

“Why aren’t you telling me what’s going on here?” Sasuke’s eyes narrow. “What’s stopping you, now that the others can’t interfere?”

Naruto bares his teeth. For a moment Sai thinks he’s going to cave.

“Then why don’t you tell me where the hell you’ve been, huh?” Naruto steps forward, every part of him cocked in challenge.

Sasuke’s lips thin.

Naruto puts his hands on his hips. “Where the hell did you go, Sasuke? What do you have to hide–“

“I don’t have to tell you,” Sasuke snaps.

Naruto shakes his head, and makes an angry gesture with his left hand. “You’re not going to tell me anything?” He pushes his fingers through his hair. “It wouldn’t be so hard for the others to trust you if you’d just–“

“ _You_ don’t trust me?”

Naruto closes his mouth. “You know I do.”

They lock eyes, jaws clenched.

“But you still won’t tell me what this little meeting was about. Why this particular group of ninja was sitting at a table pretending to have a friendly chat.”

Naruto’s eyes drop, enough of an admission without him saying another word. Sai watches the exchange, how Sasuke doesn’t spare him for an instant.

Naruto steels himself, levels his chin. “No. I won’t.”

Sasuke eyes him for a minute more, then turns away and disappears into the bathroom.

After he’s gone, Naruto exhales, shoulders slumping.

Sai takes advantage of the moment’s chance to look at him–really look at him–for the first time since returning. There is his obvious strength, of course, but also a weariness in the way Naruto stands, and a resignation that true rest is still far off. Sai knows some of what must be weighing on his shoulders, so he doesn’t have to ask questions, but there is part of him that almost can’t resist … just to see if the answer might be different than the one Naruto just gave Sasuke. But then, that seems like playing too closely with katon jutsus.

“Do you want the middle futon? Or one on the side?” He asks instead, drawing those blue eyes towards him.

“Oh,” Naruto turns, reverie broken. “Um, the middle I guess.”

Sai smiles and moves to an outer futon, disregarding the suspicion that Naruto chose the middle to be guaranteed a spot next to Sasuke. Naruto gets pillows and sits beside him, arranging things just so. Sasuke returns, smelling faintly of mint. Naruto turns out the lights without another word, the stubborn crook of his shoulder saying volumes, despite.

Sai thinks to keep first watch; Root isn’t likely give up, even if forced to pull back and regroup. But when he sees that Sasuke is awake, Sai turns over and faces Naruto’s snoring form, and closes his eyes.

Naruto’s presence will protect them. At least for this night.

♦

Akimichi Chouji is the one who picks them up in the morning, the epitome of a neutral party who breaks the tension of breakfast with sheer jollity. He and Naruto shake hands and then bump forearms, a greeting of comrades. Sai wonders how long ago _that_ started.

In spite of the obvious friendliness between them, Naruto and Chouji are somber as they lead the way to what Sai presumes is their primary base of operations. Despite the shouting and arguing the night before, Sai suspects that Sasuke has guessed some of what has been going on and won’t be overly surprised when they learn the truth. It’s the details they’re both hungry for; the details that make the bits of knowledge fit, stringing them together into a more precise whole.

Naruto does have the sense to stop them before they go inside Kakashi’s building, turning to Sasuke with a pained, grief stricken expression. “Sasuke,” he starts, then looks down at the cobblestones. “Kakashi-sensei, he…”

Sasuke looks up the front of the building, face formed into the usual serene, yet calculating mask. “I know,” he says, simply. “I heard.”

Naruto offers a brief tight-lipped smile, then turns and jogs up the front steps. Both of them are awkward and uncomfortable, Chouji too, lagging behind. Sai thinks he’s the only one who notices Sasuke’s skin fading one shade paler.

Inside, Yamato and Shikamaru are waiting for them, and Naruto repeats the handshake with each. Yamato sits with his long legs stretched out on the bed, oddly at home, considering. Sai nods a greeting, Naruto pulls out one folding chair and adds it to the others arranged in a semi-circle before sitting. There must have been a meeting before this; probably several. He and Sasuke remain standing, which doesn’t seem to bother anyone overmuch. Chouji takes up the spot beside Shikamaru, who begins speaking. Sasuke listens, eyes moving from the shuriken pattern on the bedspread to the window while the debriefing takes place.

A lot has changed in a short time.

Konoha is divided into two factions: those who support Danzou, and those who support Tsunade. Tsunade still lies in a coma, which complicates things but also buys them time–Danzou can’t take the title from her unless she dies. Knowing this, members of the Rebel Faction have staged a twenty-four hour guard in addition to the guard Danzou has ordered in one of his political moves.

One assassination attempt has been thwarted already. Danzou explained the situation away by blaming the half-demolished hospital’s faulty structure, but they all know better. Sai and Sasuke exchange a glance, remembering the vibrations they’d felt underground.

Konoha’s overall tension isn’t bad enough to warrant actual fighting, and no one says the words _Civil War_ , but it’s clear what they expect from the future if Danzou manages to hold onto what powers the Elder Council awarded him, and continues to make minor shifts in policy–the first of which is a cap on Naruto’s movements, keeping him detained within the village on pretenses stacked upon pretenses.

So far Danzou has been held mostly in check. One thing in their favor is the presence of Sunagakure’s Kazekage, who arrived to lend aid to Konoha once word of Akatsuki’s attack reached them. The Kazekage has remained inside the village on the grounds of reaffirming the alliance–the alliance which he does not recognize while Danzou sits in the Hokage office. Negotiations are ongoing. The Kazekage has made it clear he supports a different candidate for the title of Hokage should something change in Tsunade’s condition that would ultimately prevent her from resuming her duties.

Naruto, grown modest in the face of tragedy, does not boast who Gaara’s candidate choice would be.

Yamato picks up the information relay and tells them about a complication _not_ in their favor, stemming from the presence of Kumogakure shinobi acting on orders from the Raikage. At first they came looking for Sasuke’s head, for a crime no one quite understood through all the secrecy. Yamato pauses, looking at Sasuke for clarification. Sasuke nods that he will answer, but signs for Yamato to continue. Yamato glances at Shikamaru, then at Naruto, before continuing. Once it became known that Sasuke was responsible for defeating the Akatsuki member who turned out to be the _real_ leader of the organization, however, the Raikage had a change of heart and ordered the troops to lend aid in the name of peace. As an outsider, though, he has no reason not to support the current shinobi in command–Danzou.

Sasuke smirks, making a satisfied noise that causes the other men in the room to frown. Disregarding them, Sasuke folds his arms across his body and explains what he did to deserve the Raikage’s ire–but also what he can do now to turn the situation around.

Naruto does not take it well to hear that Sasuke nearly killed a jinchuuriki–even Sai is appalled at the idea. Sasuke quietly reminds them that shinobi are sometimes forced to do terrible things in the line of duty. Sai pretends not to see the glance Sasuke aims his way, his own eyes glued to Naruto and his struggle to comprehend Sasuke’s terrible actions, even if the jinchuuriki has been confirmed alive. Sai can only stand there and watch, trying to imagine what feelings make the expressions that flicker across his whiskered face.

Sasuke reveals that he has contacts in Lightning Country who can help sway the Raikage to their cause, and make it difficult for Danzou to retain command. There is a certain amount of skepticism, but Sasuke pays it no mind. Sai pictures the shinobi who came to Konoha with Sasuke; from the calm look on Sasuke’s face, he guesses Sasuke gave them specific orders, and can still contact them whenever necessary.

Yamato is the one who finally asks: “Where exactly have you been all this time?”

Sai and Sasuke both answer, their excuses identical: “Unfinished business.”

Sai defaults to his usual smile; he’s not sure what expression Sasuke makes. The result is yet another sigh from Shikamaru.

“You know, I’m not sure which of you to be worried about most.” Shikamaru sits back in his chair, eyeing one, and then the other.

“I stand with Konoha,” Sai tells them. He turns to Naruto, and bears the weight of his questioning gaze. “My allegiance lies with Uzumaki Naruto.”

No one seems to know quite how to react to this.

“Same.” Sasuke’s low affirmation garners a similar non-response, his black eyes fixed on something outside the window. Sai watches Naruto until his eyes drop, one side of his mouth curving in a smile uncharacteristically leaden.

“Prove it.” Yamato sits up, shifting his legs to the floor. His hand rests overtop a woven shuriken on the bedspread, fingers splayed as if to grasp it.

Sasuke’s pupils slide over to Sai.

‘ _Haven’t I?’_ , Sai thinks, meeting Sasuke’s dark gaze and wondering for the first time whether he might have made a huge mistake.

Sai breaks the connection and turns away, then tells Yamato and Shikamaru, the leaders of the rebellion, everything he’s ever known about Root: from where they reside in the village, to the layout of their underground headquarters, how to tell their masks apart from the other ANBU shinobi so as not to be fooled. He offers to draw sketches of the faces he knows, since names mean less than nothing.

The real discussion begins from there, Naruto sitting forward on his chair, eager to share his opinions and talk through different strategies. Sasuke comments now and again, and Sai clarifies one point or another.

Somewhere along the way, Sai realizes that his actions can’t be unmade–that moment in Naruto’s hospital room he chose his side, further sealing fate here in _this_ room with every bit of leaked information, a guarantee that he can never again return to Root as anything but a prisoner.

The bigness of the idea has a distinct pressure–one that he’s certain will swell to enormous proportions if he thinks about it for too long, suffocating every bit of him.

Sakura arrives mid-discussion, her hands full with two large satchels of. Sai takes a second look and sees the square edges of canvases outlined on the side of one, hearing the clink of jars or containers inside when she sets it on the floor.

“Sakura-chan,” Naruto brightens.

“Am I interrupting?” She asks, green eyes passing over the room’s occupants, gauging.

“No, no,” Naruto assures her, offering her a chair. “Here’s what we were just trying to decide…”

Naruto quickly fills her in. But not too soon after her arrival the meeting adjourns with the chirp of a sparrow, a signal that a different sort of mobilization is necessary. Chouji excuses himself immediately. Sakura stands and folds her chair to the side, then comes up to him.

“It’s funny to see you wearing colors,” she smiles.

Sai looks down at his borrowed t-shirt; he hadn’t paid much attention to it until now.

“I’m teasing,” she nudges his arm. “Here,” she hands him one of the satchels.

Sai looks inside and finds a bundle of his shirts and pants, belts and shoes and the tanto wrapped up in its sheath. He looks his question at her.

“From your apartment,” she answers. “I figured you might need some of your stuff, since…” She pauses, and looks to Shikamaru for help.

“Housing is a little tight right now,” Shikamaru stands up. “We found a room where you and Sasuke can stay, for the time being. There should be some clothing and dry goods already there.”

Sai frowns; he doesn’t want to stay with Sasuke. But he doesn’t know how to reject their offer while still being polite. He looks to Sasuke, expecting him to protest–he can’t imagine Sasuke wants to stay with him any more than necessary.

But Sasuke only nods, asks where the place is, and shoots him a dark look. Sakura offers to take him there, and murmurs there’s somewhere she’d like him to go with her first, if he’s willing. He shrugs and agrees, and Sai watches his dark head disappear down the steps after her.

“Naruto, why don’t you take Sai.” Yamato stands, folding his arms and leaning on Kakashi-sensei’s old desk. “You know the place, it’s the one near the Yamanaka’s.”

Naruto rubs a hand through his hair, and then picks up the other satchel, slinging it behind his shoulder. “Sure thing.”

Sai smiles, and follows him down the stairs. It’s the first time they’ve been on their own, but it doesn’t feel the same; too much has happened in the time they were apart. Sai wants to close that gap again, wants to feel the warmth of Naruto’s smile and hear his mischievous laughter. He _longs_ for it.

“Naruto-kun,” he says, stopping on the sidewalk. Naruto cocks his head in inquiry. “How about Ichiraku’s first?”

Naruto’s answering smile is almost a good as he remembers. “Thank god that place is still standing.”

Sai couldn’t agree more.

♦

For half an hour, it might have been any other sunny day prior to Akatsuki’s attack and prior to Naruto’s departure to Myobokuzan. The familiar sounds of the stall kitchen and the taste of the noodles on his tongue bring back happier memories of eating with Naruto, clouded only by the partial ruins in the street behind them, past the red and white curtain.

Naruto admits that it’s nice to have someone to eat with, since Iruka-sensei spends days and nights on the front lines harassing Danzou and his assistants about improper paperwork and misplaced files, and creating a whole lot of red tape for them to wade through. They chuckle about it, but then Naruto sets his chopsticks down across the rim of his empty bowl, and asks the one thing that breaks the afternoon spell.

“Where were you really?”

Sai places his chopsticks down on the counter.

“Will you seriously not tell me?” Naruto leans on his elbow, brows tilting down to frame the hard look in his blue eyes.

“I’m sorry if my absence has caused you any worry,” Sai replies.

Naruto’s mouth turns down to complete the frown. “Well, we didn’t know what to think, you know? I mean, I wasn’t worried about you, Sai. But… it was weird for you to disappear right when Danzou…” He trails off. “For all we knew, you were helping him. Maybe even a danger to the Old Lady.”

“I would never hurt her.” Sai tries to make his face show that he’s speaking the absolute truth. “Or you.”

Naruto chuckles. “I know. But still. It was weird.”

“Please trust me,” Sai says, taking Naruto’s hand in his own. “Please.”

The hand is big and warm, a sense of strength and ability in the whorls of his palm that are comforting, somehow. Not entirely what he expected. Naruto squeezes his fingers tight around Sai’s hand, a momentary pulse of accord.

“I’ll try,” he says.

And Sai knows that’s the best either of them can do.

♦

On the way to the apartment Naruto tells him about Konoha, what he hopes for the village’s future and what he hopes to accomplish in order to be worthy of her one day. He tells him he wants Tsunade to be the one to pass him her silly hat. He seems baffled by the support of the villagers and his friends, almost shy about it–but mostly Sai is struck by the depth of his convictions and the passion in his voice when talking about Konohagakure, his pride in being a shinobi of Leaf.

There is much he wants to tell Naruto as well. But before the timing is right, they turn a corner and Sasuke intercepts them in front of a building directly across from the Yamanaka flower shop.

“I thought you were with Sakura?” Naruto says, coming to a stop.

Sasuke holds up his parcel, a plastic sack with a handful of goods inside. “Already accusing me, I see.” Sasuke frowns.

“No, I–” Naruto grits his teeth. “Never mind.”

Sasuke turns to Sai. “I’ve got the key.”

“Would you like to come up, Naruto-kun?” Sai asks, realizing he’s not sure when they’ll see each other again.

“No. Thanks,” he replies, blue eyes still fixing a glare on Sasuke. “Come back to Shikamaru’s tonight though, for dinner. We eat around six, and it’s Neji’s turn to cook.”

“ _Lovely_ ,” Sasuke sneers.

The taunt is deliberate, and before Naruto can react Sai grabs hold of his arm, and smiles. “We’ll be there.”

Naruto shrugs. “Yeah. Later.” Then he continues down the street and leaps upwards along a fire-escape to the roof line.

“Idiot,” Sasuke comments.

Sai clenches his teeth. “Give me the key.”

Sasuke lifts one brow. “This way,” he says, ignoring the request and taking the lead.

The apartment is small: one room with a kitchenette and a tiny washroom. Two futons sit in the corner, rolled up to wait for evening. ‘ _From one prison to another,’_ Sai muses, eyeing the narrow space they’re supposed to share indefinitely.

What was he expecting?

The same quiet space Team Seven occupied, eating and training together, their concerns singular and anonymous to the rest of the shinobi in the village?

Konoha’s issue is everyone’s now–the battle has affected all of them. Teams have joined cell by cell to stand against the new leader’s vision, resisting the deviation from Konoha’s forefather’s greatest hopes and dreams–the idea of Team Seven is a small thing compared to the whole.

Sai feels … disconnected.

Can it even be called Team Seven, if both he and Sasuke are here? Can it be called Team Kakashi when Kakashi-sensei is dead?

Sasuke goes to the sink and washes his hands before rummaging in cabinets. Sai ignores him and goes to the small dresser to unpack the satchel of clothes, and then change into one of his regular outfits. The relief is indescribable.

There is no table, so Sai picks a side of the room and unpacks the satchel of artist paraphernalia, leaning the canvases against the wall, three blank rectangles. His jars of paint and ink take up a small area on the floor, organized so he can take an inventory. Among the glass containers he finds the scroll he left at Shikamaru’s the night before, retrieved from the bathroom. He’ll have to thank Sakura for it later.

Sasuke’s footsteps cross the room and stop just out of arm’s reach. “Can you really use all that?” he asks. Sai glances up into his face. “Or is it just for show? Part of the persona you’re playing: ‘Sai the artist.'” Sasuke takes a sip of tea before setting his mug aside on the dresser.

Annoyed, Sai takes out a drawing tablet and a sharpened charcoal pencil and begins to sketch broad, gestural lines. Sasuke comes closer to see, tilting his head to understand the image.

“What is that?”

Sai smiles. “Naruto’s pe–“

Sasuke swats the tablet from his lap, all of a sudden crouched too close, ready to spring. Sai’s pulse quickens in his neck. Sasuke leans in, graceful as a panther, moving one hand to Sai’s thigh while the other braces on the wall, trapping him against it. His mouth slowly angles for a kiss, breath warm on his lips.

Sai turns his head away, pushing Sasuke back with a hard shove in the center of his chest. His cheeks color with fury. “We’re not in Root–I can say _no_.”

“So you can,” Sasuke smirks, rocking back on his heels, but still too close for Sai’s liking. “But I don’t really believe it.”

Sai forces his body to relax. “Insulting me is meaningless.”

“Why?” Sasuke cocks his head. “Because you have no emotions?” He chuckles. “I think we’ve proved that wrong already.”

“I wouldn’t expect it to matter to you,” Sai says, voice cool.

Sasuke gives him a level stare. “You know, you remind me of Kabuto.”

Sai smiles.

“I hate people like you the most.” Sasuke inches closer, oozing menace. “You can never tell what side they’re on. Slimy, slippery guys like you are the worst.” Then Sasuke shrugs. “You know what I think?”

Sai folds his hands in his lap, inviting enlightenment.

Sasuke’s eyes switch over to the Sharingan. “I think Root _let us go_.”

Sai frowns.

“See, I’ve got it all figured out.” Sasuke curves his lip, enjoying the moment. “I think you spoke to me on purpose that day, when you brought the food. I think you stole my pickles to test my abilities even when sealed and chained. But there are too many coincidences. Why seal me with ink, and then put an ink-user into my cell?”

“Not many know of my sealing and unsealing abilities.”

Sasuke lowers his chin. “Not many does not equal _zero_. I think they knew, and _let_ you unseal me.”

“Why?” Sai asks. “That wouldn’t make sense. Clearly Danzou didn’t want you free; he saw you as a threat to his plans.”

“I’m not so sure,” Sasuke pauses. “Once we left that mine shaft there was no pursuit.”

“Plans change.”

“If what you told Yamato this morning is true, there are any number of Root operatives dispersed throughout the village, none of which turned up to stop us from escaping to Naruto’s location. And where does that leave you?”

Sai returns Sasuke’s glare. “You tell me.”

Sasuke picks up the scroll of ink nestled between the jars of paint beside them. “It leaves you with this–and access to Naruto.”

Sai bares his teeth, extremely offended. “I would _never_ –“

“Oh?” Sasuke lifts one brow. “Who else are you supposed to seal with this ink if not him?”

Sai begins to calculate where Sasuke is going with this, and then stops before letting himself get carried away. The idea is preposterous. Ridiculous. Sasuke frowns while noises of humor bubble out of him.

It could never happen that way; he’s crossed Danzou too many times now to live. Even bringing him the gift of a sealed Naruto wouldn’t mend the break. His actions of returning Uchiha Sasuke to Uzumaki Naruto’s side have only one result: In Root, Sai is now anathema.

Sai finds it easier to relax under Sasuke’s burning gaze once the laughter has run its course. “Even you don’t trust me,” he comments. Sasuke’s eyes narrow. “I suppose I should have expected that.”

“Let’s get one thing straight,” Sasuke says. “I don’t owe you anything.”

Sai turns cool eyes to him. “And just how were you planning to get out of that cell?”

Sasuke grabs him by the shirt and shoves him into the wall. “I could have gotten out without you–make no mistake.”

“When?”

Sasuke seethes. “I could have gotten out.”

“Eventually Naruto would have gone in after you … if he ever figured out where you were being held. And if he didn’t get caught first.”

Sasuke lets him go. “And what if he gets caught?”

Sai tilts his head, waiting for the rest.

“Let’s say it’s not you, but someone else from Root that gets him,” Sasuke waves off Sai’s answering frown, “And they lock him up, like what happened to me. There’s just one thing–you’ve already gone in there once. Your hand is played.”

Sai’s eyes widen.

“You used your one shot. And now you can’t go back.”

Sai’s stomach feels sick. He drops his eyes, unable to look at Sasuke anymore because he’s right. He had one chance to do what he did, and he did it for _Sasuke_ of all people, so that Naruto would have all the strength he deserves at his side.

Sasuke sighs, the hard edge to his presence diminishing. “Oh quit,” he says. “Quit showing me that heartbroken, lovesick face–I can’t stand it.”

He has no idea what Sasuke’s talking about. He also hates the gentleness couched in the harsh words, that tinge of vulnerability in Sasuke that makes him so compelling, yet so maddening.

“What expression am I supposed to have, then?”

“I don’t know,” Sasuke says, and Sai can hear the frown. “I guess it’s better than that stupid smile.”

_That’s_ an expression Sai can manage, and he does. “Anything you say, Sasuke-kun.”

♦

Returning to Shikamaru’s little apartment brings back a flood of memories from the night before, so that it’s almost uncomfortable to knock on the door.

Chouji is the one who lets them in this time, smiling a welcome and warning them not to trip on their way in. The house smells good, a few noises from the kitchen letting them know their chef is hard at work. Sai blinks at the collection of items in the entryway. 

“What is all this?” Sai asks, curious.

“Sakura-san sent out the word that you were looking for a replacement sword,” Chouji gestures to Sasuke, who nods. “These are some that have been dropped off–take your pick!”

“So many,” Sai comments, his artist’s eye picking out details in the various hilt wrappings.

Sasuke reaches out one hand and plucks a sword out of the middle of the pile. He turns to Sai, eyes flashing–Sai looks at the sword and feels his heart stop in his chest: it’s _Sasuke’s_.

“Who brought this?” Sasuke demands, startling Chouji.

“Um, well… Sakura-san and Hyou-san came by earlier, and–“

“Where did they go?” Sai grabs Chouji’s forearm, heart thundering back to life.

“Uh, I think they went to meet up with Naruto–“

“Where?” Sasuke snaps impatiently, already fitting his sword into the belt at his waist.

“He always goes to see Tsunade before dinner–“

Sai bolts out the door just ahead of Sasuke. Chouji’s confusion keeps the others from immediate pursuit, though Neji does come after them as soon as he gets enough of the story to have his suspicions aroused. They fly over Konoha’s skyline in relative ease until reaching the hospital, when they realize getting _inside_ might be significantly more difficult than getting there.

Four ANBU guards stand at the doors, checking all visitors before letting them enter.

“Got it,” Sasuke says, eyes narrowing to slits as he speeds ahead.

Sai flips open a blank scroll and paints a roaring, snarling distraction to cover him. Sasuke is a whirl of steel–Sai catches sight of his face as he runs by and thinks he must be enjoying himself. Their teamwork allows Sai to charge into the building and up the flights of steps.

Before any major alarms are raised, Sai follows the sense of Naruto’s chakra until he finds Tsunade’s floor. Then he kneels and paints enough snakes to take care of the remaining guards inside her room, sending them up the wall and across the ceiling to drop onto their targets and bind them tight–but he can’t silence their cries.

“What’s going on?”

Sai hears Naruto’s voice from inside the room as he sprints with all his might in the hope that he’s not too late.

The sounds of Sasuke coming up the steps behind him grow muffled as urgency gives way to slow-motion, fate spiraling down to the next few seconds. He draws his tanto and shoulders open the door, disregarding the gasps of shock and outrage, black eyes flicking over the faces surrounding Tsunade’s bed and finding the one that does not belong.

Hyou-senpai freezes, and then all at once there’s a kunai in his hand over Tsunade’s head.

“Hokage!” Sai shouts, plunging into the room and lunging at Hyou, shaking off the hands that grab for him. He hears Sasuke shouting behind him, wrestling through the uproar to give him a clear path.

Hyou starts the downward swing and Sai barrels into him, grabbing his wrist and ruining his aim–they tumble to the floor, the kunai clattering along the linoleum. Sai holds him with his body, twirls the tanto once and skewers it right through his Senpai’s heart.

Sai watches Hyou’s mouth open and close, soundlessly, his body jerking twice before going still. Sai holds the tanto in place, deep purple heart-blood welling up around the cut, soaking his glove, and then puddling on the floor. He’s vaguely aware of someone behind him keeping the others away, the murmurs of shock and disbelief echoing in the small room.

Hyou’s pupils glaze over. Sai slowly unclenches his fingers from the hilt of his tanto, his sticky glove tight over the contours of his hand.

Someone murmurs, “He was going to kill her. He was really… oh my _god_ …”

Naruto’s voice cuts through. “If Sai hadn’t…”

Lee’s voice is next, moving around the bed closer to Naruto’s. “I saw it too. I never expected this of Hyou-san.”

“Earlier he gave me a recipe for Ohagi.” Sakura’s voice breaks.

“Sai.” Sasuke says his name in warning, backing up from the doorway to stop beside him.

Hospital employees flood the room, doctors and security forces alike–thankfully none with masks. Naruto takes command, ordering them to see to the Hokage first though several protest about the body on the floor, and the damages caused by Sasuke at the entrance. The men tied by ink outside the door add to the ruckus, and Sakura snaps out of it and comes over to check on Sai. When he looks over at her, he becomes aware of a strange wetness on his left cheek that he reaches to brush away, but she stops his hand, gently–this one too is covered in Hyou-senpai’s blood.

Sakura rubs her clean hand over his cheek, warm and dry and good, then gestures to ask if he can stand. He manages, though his chest feels dull and heavy, like a factory ream of blank scroll paper.

Once the doctors are sure that Tsunade is okay, they begin shooing everyone from the room. Two men come with a stretcher to remove the body.

“He was a member of Root,” he explains, facing Naruto.

Naruto’s expression switches to the fierceness of rage.

“That’s _it_ ,” Naruto growls. “Now he’s really done it.” He turns to Sakura, “Quick, get Gaara. Tell Shikamaru. That bastard is going down _tonight_.”

Sakura nods and touches Naruto, him and Sasuke on the elbow before leaving.

“Someone should stay here to guard the Hokage,” Sasuke comments, arms crossed.

“Leave that to me,” Neji says, coming around the doorway, a bit flushed from the hot pursuit. “I’ll make sure nobody comes in who isn’t supposed to.”

“Sai,” Naruto stands there at a loss.

“We’ll stay close by,” Sasuke says, cutting in. “Go do what you need to do.”

Naruto is instantly relieved. “I’ll come find you later.”

Sai watches Naruto stop long enough to kiss Tsunade on her wrinkled forehead before running out the door. The doctors herd them out of the room, and Neji tips his head in acknowledgement as they pass.

Sai releases the guards now that they can’t interfere, offering them a grin of apology that doesn’t seem to work properly. Sasuke follows him into the restroom and waits while he discards his ruined gloves and washes the blood from his cuticles.

Then they walk down the steps to a quieter floor and sit in an empty waiting room.

♦

Sasuke’s eyes never leave Sai’s hand, which unnerves him; he’s not used to being watched so close as this.

His pencil glides over the paper, shading noses, shaping hair styles and suggesting the indents of battlescars. He draws and draws, face after face of the people he remembers from the moment he was adopted into Root. The faces spread and multiply, filling the scroll from edge to edge until they’ve become innumerable. When one scroll runs out of space Sasuke hands him another and he starts the process over again, silent, intent.

There’s something not quite right about this, he can tell. Something manic controls him, fuels the bones and ligaments in his right hand and brings the graphite patterns to life. When the pencil runs dull he sharpens it with a kunai and begins anew. The faces eventually give way to masks, a series meant for decoding, which then give way to schematics and floorplans, detailing Root’s headquarters and outbuildings, where Danzou’s rooms were known to be located before he made his recent residence change.

When even this information is near exhausted, the pencil point on the verge of falling still for the first time in several hours, Sai feels a sort of panic seize him about the middle. And so he draws one last face, repeating it over and over from every age and every angle until finally Sasuke can’t hold back his curiosity.

“Who is that?”

Sai smiles, warmth tingling along his ribs at the memory. “It’s my brother.” He draws the face again, smiling back at them. He adds a gloved hand lifted in salute. “He was called Shin.”

His pencil stops, and imposed overtop Shin’s face Sai sees Naruto–he remembers the feel of his hand from earlier in the Ramen Shop. _Brother._ The word feels right. Unexpected, and true. Nourishing as a warm broth filling the tummy. Lending immeasurable strength. Something worth protecting at any cost. A bond that goes beyond love.

Something inside Sai relaxes. Uncoils. 

Sasuke takes the still pencil from Sai’s sore hand and sets it aside.

“Uzumaki Naruto is like a brother to me,” Sai says. He says it more to himself than to Sasuke, testing the words, but after a moment, Sasuke responds anyhow.

“Me too.”

Sai looks over into Sasuke’s dark eyes, intense yet quiet. A patience that stirs. They are the eyes of one who has been submerged by darkness and clawed his way back into the light, a mirror that casts a glimpse into the center of Sai’s guts, into his very soul. Sasuke’s gaze holds the whisper of an unexpected bond forged through shared struggles, glimmering between them like the filament of a spider’s web. Not like a friend. Not like a brother. No longer an enemy. Not really a comrade. A threshold to something else. Something more. Something he can’t explain.

Sai studies the lines of Sasuke’s face, the fall of his bangs over his cheek, thinking he’d like to know what that Adam’s apple tastes like beneath his teeth, what noises would sigh through those lips, what it would be like to remove all their clothes and do it right. Maybe one day soon, they will.

Sai tilts his head. “Uzumaki Naruto believes that you belong here in Konoha. Sasuke-kun–don’t prove him wrong.”

Sasuke smirks, a brief twitch of lips. “Oh I’m not going anywhere. He’s stuck with me for good. And now, so are you.”

—

Ω

**Author's Note:**

> Gift for the amazing Wigglynoodle in the 2008 OSS Winterfest exchange on livejournal. ♥


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